


Hidden in the Shadows

by TheOncomingStorm



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Depressed Tony, Eventual Loki/Tony, Frenemies, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 20:32:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOncomingStorm/pseuds/TheOncomingStorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Playboy. Self-destructive. Doesn't play well with others.<br/>All labels he created for himself, for protection and to build a personality no one could see through to what laid beneath. A method to prevent himself from scaring those he cared away, constructed from insecurities and self beliefs.<br/>Why risk scaring them away with his darker secrets, when he can appear an self absorbed git with at least some positive traits?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fanfiction in a long time... and jumping into the Avengers, could go horribly wrong or work out somewhat okay. So I hope I at least manage to take this somewhere, although right now it's a test I'm worried might not even go beyond a couple of chapters since I'm so out of practice of writing a solid plot.  
> I apologize if anything seems out of character. I'd say it's obvious my Tony isn't going to be spot on to what we see, but hopefully it'll still fit in well to his outward appearance.

He couldn't remember when it started. 

If he were ever to be asked, he'd shrug, glance just over the questioners shoulder and give his reply with an air of indifference. It would help avoid the subject for a longer period of time, in which Tony Stark could made his escape. Yes, Tony Stark was sure on many things, but this was one he could never find the answer for. So, he was glad no one had ever asked him. 

Growing up in his father's shadow, had left a lasting impression. Never being good enough, or important enough, for the one person attention he strived for meant instead of love or admiration for the father figure, he had resentment, a drive to better himself in any, and every, way possible, then finally the damage to his self-importance.  
He could think to the time as a teenager, being admit to MIT at the age of fifteen, he thought his father would show some praise to his only son. But the cold response, led to sitting in the dark afterwards, clutching his hand as it ached from punching the wall to hold back his tears of frustration. 

That would be the first time he remembered it truly starting physically. 

From there, his actions built, creating a new pain to take over the emotional one, hardening him as a person on the outside while tearing him apart on the inside. His parent's didn't notice the scars. Nor did his friends. So he just continued, letting the scars run deeper; the only physical sign of his attitude to standing in the shadows unheard. 

After his parents death, the business was swiftly passed to him as early as possible, as early as he was ready. To take up what his father had left behind, and try to prove himself to the ghost of his past.  
Pepper stood at his side, dealing with the paperwork and his needy personality, ready for most orders. Tony knew he'd be lost without her; yet even after one night when he wanted to tell her everything.  
He couldn't. He could only just clean up the mess he'd made across the bathroom floor, muttering to himself or J.A.R.V.I.S. about the trigger, and promising again he wouldn't resort to these actions again no matter what.  
No one, no matter how close, need know what happens behind the closed doors metaphorically and physically. 

After the fiasco that was his capture in Afghanistan, resulting in the cursed object embedded into his chest to keep the shrapnel away from his heart, his life took a dip between most trusted friend trying to kill him, and then the poisoning from the thing keeping him alive. On one night when the frustration and pain was too much, laying in the darkness with only the glow for company, he'd being tempted to end everything then by removing his life source, his then killer, and let everyone else deal with his mess. That had instead led to the extremity in drinking, and then the birthday party turned brawl and finally developing the new element that would power the arc reactor safely. Yet another new leaf turned over he didn't ask for. 

Fury turned up after this, officially. Requesting his help with a hero boy band that he didn't want to be part of. As Steve Rodgers pointed out, he was worth nothing. Not that he claimed himself to be a hero, even with his shielding arrogant personality. But hearing it from someone he was meant to work with, someone else who had known his father first hand better than he himself, had hurt. Even once the battle against Loki was done; the plans for Avenger mansion underway as directed by Fury, and somehow becoming a set member of the Avengers, those words still rang around his head. Because someone had spoken the truth, the most honest truth, about how he felt about himself beneath everything; and they would never know how close to knowing him they really were. 

Playboy. Self-destructive. Doesn't play well with others.  
All labels he created for himself, for protection and to build a personality no one could see through to what laid beneath. A method to prevent himself from scaring those he cared away, constructed from insecurities and self beliefs.  
Why risk scaring them away with his darker secrets, when he can appear an self absorbed git with at least some positive traits?


	2. Chapter 2

Daily life as an Avenger could go two ways; a dull day, or a hectic day. Tony preferred those days when he could sleep late, and have a small emergency to deal with in the afternoon that didn't require fixing his suit afterwards or exerting too much energy outside his workshop.  
However, when he had managed to find his way out of bed after staying up in the workshop most of the night, and slept the minimum needed by his standards, the message had come via J.A.R.V.I.S that Doctor Doom was attacking the city of New York with his lackey robots and the Avengers had to handle it. It was then he knew it was going to be one of those hectic days. 

Since the defeat of Loki over a year ago, super villains seemed to climb from all the nook and crannies of the world to try to up roost the boy band of heroes plus one, almost as if they wanted to give the Avengers a job to do. It didn't help that a few short months after his capture, Loki had also escaped and, when he felt like it or wanted to aggravate Thor, would appear with his tricks.  
What had started as a one off promise, ended up being a long term career. 

Doom wasn't the worst of the villains to appear though. Just one of the trickier, given he never was at the scene of the crime himself to answer the questions or allow a much over due pummelling, though Reed Richards and the Fantastic Four could deal that out since their feud ran deeper than with the Avengers. After five minutes of being informed, the team had assembled, Clint still pulling his arm guards on, and from the adapted roof, left in the Quinjet (patent Tony Stark, prototype two) to the centre. 

Upon arrival to the scene, Captain America had swiftly called out his orders, and once the team was in place, they began to work together to bring down the robots of Doom's creation, working together as a well oiled machine. The Doombots came in a steady pattern from the start, but soon things started to become more erratic and somewhat unpredictable. So erratic, that when Tony had come closer to ground level to help the Cap out as he was being surrounded, no one noticed when one of the robots flew behind and was able to grasp onto the leg of the suit, twisting the metal as it clamped down. 

In seconds, Tony found himself in darkness as a cold shock ran through his suit, power being cut off from the suit, and the thrusters that kept the suit in flight powering down with a splutter, allowing gravity to take its effect. If it wasn't for the damned robot, he was sure he would have crashed into the Captain instead of aiding him. Though, that may have helped too, Tony reflected upon briefly. 

"J.A.R.V.I.S, manual reboot now. I don't care what that thing did to us, just get the power back!"  
The command echoed slightly in the suit, raising panic, but a faint crackle came which gave a little reassurance to Tony that whatever Doom and his robots had managed, his A.I. was far superior despite the darkness. 

The Doombot still had a grasp on his leg, gripping even more tightly - was it trying to break his leg as well now? - and used its own inbuilt systems of flight to drag him away from the main fighting scene, eventually letting go once away from the main fighting down an alley. Iron Man rolled down the alleyway before finally being able to come to a halt, and kneel. 

Tony took a deep breath, blinking repeatedly, and tried to remove the small amount of dread that rose. It only took a second, but the racing thoughts in his mind made it feel like longer. He raised his head and noticed how the restricted vision was swaying slightly, although the screens that usually filled that space were glitching back into his vision. And were slowly going to give him a headache if the world continued to sway beyond them. 

Shaking his head, Tony extended one hand out at the robot for some protection (not that it'd do anything other than stop a direct attack in this powerless state), while trying to stand, ignoring the distorted metal that tried to stab his leg. The glitching HUD was already blinking the enemy's - "Sir, there see-obe mo--nmies ar-vin-" - location outside the suit, but even if he managed to get up in time, this was a planed attack. Arranged so he could be surrounded without help, and taken on separately for whatever purpose. And slowly, one by one, the advancing red markers landed around him and circled him.

These Doombots were the ones he'd just being fighting, the ones in his vision covered in some scratches or dent from the battle they'll flown from, but this only helped to mark out the difference to his captor-robot. Slim and built to resemble a humanoid, they were fast, and while fragile, they had enough strength to withstand several hits before they fell. They weren't problematic, the slightly more bulky and taller one however, was. 

Deciding to make his move, before they made theirs, Tony went to fire a weak repulsor blast from the reserved energy, but speed and the planned attacked had advantage, and so while the three stood within his vision moved to avoid the attack, the two behind moved forward as rapidly they could, and each grabbed one arm; allowing captor-robot to jump forward, and slam him to the floor and be pinned down. The final two Doombots grabbed each leg, leaving Tony trapped on the floor, and finally in the dark as the displays went dark again. 

He cursed, trying to ignore the static noise filling his ears and see what was going on the outside without panicking. He had only one logical choice left, which was the unibeam. But even Tony wasn't that stupid to try and use it when energy to the suit was at a minimum - not only would the power possibly not reach a useful amount, but it'd leave him more open to an attack if the suits entire system shut down with no power. This really sucked, and with none of the Avengers likely to have noticed what had happened, he had no choice but to hope J.A.R.V.I.S managed a full reboot that would allow him to try the unibeam. 

Outside the suit, the robots were tactically gathering around, each ensuring he couldn't escape, while the captor slowly walked further into his restricted vision. It bent over the suit, one arm held back in the air ready to strike, so Tony continued to struggle against the hold. The static noise began to finally clear and finally the projected images appeared glitch-free before him as systems began to reboot clear of issues. "Diverting all power to the unibeam, sir."

A scale appeared to the left of all the screens, which grew in numbers slowly showing the build up on energy to the unibeam. Even if Tony wished it, it wouldn't reach 100% of the first coloured scale in time for a strong enough attack, and so just as the metre read 73%, the robot was full tensed above him. And then struck.

He cried out as the robotic arm pierced through the chest piece, stabbing into his chest bellow both arc reactors, and tearing into the flesh. Then, as if it had anticipated the built up energy, it moved swiftly, ripping the metal plate away and then grasping the suit's own reactor with it's other hand, pulling it out it's casing among the wires. 

The metre for the unibeam froze, and the words critical filled the bar instead briefly before the screens froze and glitched to nothing without the reactor to power them. The power diverted to the unibeam was armed and with nothing to guide it, was about to go wild even if it wasn't full power - to which Tony was suddenly thankful for. The captor-Robot moved backwards, it's thrusters already powering, and whether it moved swiftly enough Tony didn't know. The built up power quickly fired in a blinding white blast of wild pure energy. 

Flung aside, Tony went limp inside the suit for a second before clutching at the ruined armour in pain, struggling to breathe after being winded by the blast, and started to glance around. The robot of his troubles was nowhere in sight, and the others seemed to have being short circuited by the wild unibeam, now piles of useless metal and circuits. 

Sitting up fully against the strain of the powered down suit he started to take deep breaths to ignore the worst of the pain, trying to calm the shaking that started through his body. Damnit.  
This was clearly an attack for intel. One that was successful. 

It was just one of those days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you spot any mistakes, feel free to tell me. No one has read it except me, so I've properly being unable to find every mistake.  
> (I'm still not 100% happy with this chapter, but it's needed how it is to lead into the next chapter and the thick of the plot. Baah)


	3. Chapter 3

The finale to the attack Tony went through was big enough to attract attention from his team, as shortly after he stopped the shaking and managed to pull the gold plate visor off his face, the Captain had walked to the secluded alley and spotted him against the wall, calling out for the others to come help him. His ally didn't look any better than he surely did - large cut running across his face, suit ripped open at one side with bleeding wound, and the ridiculous face cover long gone somewhere in battle. 

From that moment, it had taken a while before he was able to get out the suit, manually having to take it off in the alleyway, the chest piece taking the longest without its cover, before the SHIELD medics arrived to attend to his wound. The wound caused wasn't deep, just painful and had grazed old scars from the Arc Reactor's placement all those years ago now that made it ache more than it should. 

All the while, Tony had sat there thinking over the whole event, knowing that the attack had to be planned for something that specific. Defiantly one for intel rather than to cause havoc or steal something while they were distracted, but given the Vibranium shield that Cap uses was still in one piece and was the base for the pile of Iron Man armour... It was maybe dented slightly more than usual, but not actually stolen.

Humiliatingly, Tony had found himself being carried away from the alley and onto the Quinjet, where he could only winced when the wound to his chest was cleansed. He pointedly ignored the looks the others were giving him and the piled up suit. Of course it'd only be him who'd actually had something stolen in that fight, not that he'd let them know. The others looked like shit, but all their weapons were still beside them even if in various stages of being broken. 

This de-brief was going to be hell, that was his only thought as the jet finally arrived on the Helicarrier. He pushed the medical member that was still finishing the wrapping around his chest, smiling at them briefly and pulling his shirt down. "I don't think you'll get that any tighter, not unless you want to start suffocating me. Which I'm sure is the opposite of what you're trying to do."

Not waiting for a reply, he walked off and once off the jet, ran a hand down his face and grimaced when he felt a bruise down the left side of his face. He waited a minute, for the rest of the team to follow him off the jet. Clint and Natasha came last, as Natasha's foot had being encased in a splint until after the de-brief when better medical care could be applied and so walked slowly on the damaged foot from the jet, before they began walking down the corridor together. 

Director Fury met them half way, wearing his usual leather coat and scowl fixed on his face. Tony wanted to give the man a small wave, but when Fury turned towards him the expression darkened so the hand froze mid rise and then fell by his side again, clenching as he dug his nails to his palm in an attempt to ignore the rising panic. 

This was stupid. What happened wasn't his fault. He couldn't predict the moves of the bad guys. If he could, he'd be there before anything could happen.   
Actually, it was likely if he could Tony himself would be a bad guy with no differentiation between good and bad just to piss them all off. 

When they finally walked into one of the many rooms they used for de-briefing, Tony made towards his usual seat. One that was near Bruce, far away from Fury, and somewhat close to the door in case of a quick escape.   
They all sat in their usual places, only Fury stood at the head of the table, glaring down at everyone rather than taking a seat. This was truly going to be hell. 

"Would somebody, like to explain what the hell happened out there?"

Of course no one would. Well, no one would honestly know what did happen from a quick glance around the table. But the longer the silence went on, the one eye Fury still possessed managed to glare harder at them all that Tony, putting his best foot forward, decided to break the silence. "Robots came, robots attacked, we all got beaten up. Oh, and appendix to that, the attack was clearly planned out, with an objective."

Everyone all turned to look at him, so he sat back in his chair and smiled faintly at them, reaching into his pocket and retrieving his Stark phone. "Oh, Mr. Stark. Would you care to elaborate upon that?"

"Of course Director, though I'll need the rest of the team to fill in what happened once I was separated from the main fighting."

Tony began to touch his phone, turning one dial and then retrieving the surveillance from his suit, and with a few more turns and press of the buttons, he'd taken over the small screen in the room with footage playing through from the moment their fight had become erratic.   
"I think we all know that some point during the fight, before things got a little out of control, that the pattern changed and then I imagine everyone was pinpointed specifically rather than on a 'need to hit the enemy' basis.

At least with my half, I was cornered off by one of Doctor Doom's robots that wasn't as normal as the others - which leads to the question, if this fight was just for intel and to test these newer models out against their primary targets, a specific Avenger."

Even though Fury had his back to them all, too busy watching the screen, Tony could sense the interest his words had risen, so he just continued. "So let's take my lovely robot," he started, turning a dial to speed he footage up until he watched the Iron Man suit be dropped into the alleyway powered down, "it had technology that temporary shut down my suit's operating system, that rendered the suit useless until J.A.R.V.I.S was able to reboot. It also had being built out of something able to damage my suit. Since normally, the worst is scratches or when enough stress is applied to the metal to warp it. Not a common thing I'll add, unless it's mechanical or electrical. 

My biggest guess, and I'd bet any amount of money on this, that it was built using information gathered from previous fights, and then manufactured to take me down. I'd say they didn't have enough intelligence yet however to be perfect, which has to be good for us. So go team!"

The room fell silent as he finished, and Tony paused the video to the Doombots face looming over the camera - just before it had started its final attack. He frowned at the metal face, memorising the little details he'd missed in the middle of battle, so that if he ever saw it again, he could claim payback. 

"Well, Tony is correct. The robot that targeted me was built to tackle the Other guys strength. It was also a lot more bulky then that one, I'd say a whole different build," Bruce finally spoke beside him, and Tony mentally patted him on the back.

Steve was lent on the table, chin resting on his interlocked hands as he thought. "I saw the one that tried taking on the Hulk... if I hadn't seen it myself, I'd have thought the idea they were built specifically for each of us to be nonsense. But your footage, Tony, the one that attacked me and then the Hulk's own fight," Steve trailed off in thought again.

Clint and Natasha were glancing at each other, both looking pensive, their 'quiet thinking but clearly on the same page' looks caused Tony's frown to deepen and know something was soon going to happen he wouldn't like - a summary of his S.H.I.E.L.D experiences if he was honest.   
"I think the ones that attacked me and Clint, were similar. I'd say something similar to Tony's, only built with agility in mind."

"Yeah, only I'd say the one focused on me had a bigger interest in my quiver and it's arrowsheads. I guess the dumb thing wanted to know about my collection," raising the ruined quiver to the table. The usually neat metal quiver was scratched along the narrow and minimalist design and the metal warped inwards in the middle, bottom twisted from pressure being applied in a vice grip. The thin strip of metal that encased the two automatic-loading disk for the arrowheads had being snapped and pulled away, allowing one of the disks to be broken and some the spare arrowheads be lost on the scene.  
Overall, as Tony let out a low whistle, the quiver certainly now ruined. Another pile of metal to join his suit back on the jet. No wonder Clint had looked disgruntled earlier on the jet. It was more than just his 'resting face' to blame. 

Fury tilted his head, crossing his arms at the mess on the table, while Steve reached out and turned the quiver to look at the damage more himself. Next to him, Thor lent forward in his seat and placed his hands on the table, "Aye, the mechanical man that attacked me had a greater interest in Mjölnir. Though they were no match against my lightening or Mjölnir strength, I have being lucky in this battle."

Despite his size, Tony had almost forgotten about their resident Norse God sat beside Steve (compared to Bruce who usually was silent and forgotten about until he had something to say, this was a big feat for Point Break) but his story was the last piece of a mental puzzle Tony had being working on since the explosion in the alley. The whole event from each perspective sat in Tony's mind as he fit them together, mentally treating each piece of information with care as he would if J.A.R.V.I.S projected the information before him. Apart from Thor's, whose robot seemed far behind in development, each had their main goal of attacking the Avengers and trying to more closely kept secrets about the members. That he could confirm, but why and how were the biggest questions.

Tensing in his seat, Tony finally lent forward and appeared more engaged in the conversation, his right hand tracing the table surface as he continued to mentally align the information - the information gathered to create these test were beyond field gained data, why was Thor's the weakest when there were plenty of writing about him, were Clint and himself the only ones to be targeted for specific tools used often - each thought racing with several ideas, before he slowly glanced up at Fury and the unwanted information was removed from his thoughts and the most important present with his questions. Time to take a risk while Fury looked so venomous, and bring forth some suspicions. 

"You know, Nicky, going by everything said I can't help but be suspicious about your network and your files on us. If these were those robots first test run, they had too much information for their build to be guesses or purely gathered on field data. Had any stray viruses recently?"

"None Mr. Stark, beyond your usual ones to make sure we're not trying to hide anything from you. However I think how secure our network of information is the least of our worries."

Tony raised an eyebrow, but his breathing increased slightly as the panic rose. So the fact someone may have being looking at their personal files were the least of good old Fury's worry right now, what could be worse? "I fail to see how someone reading the more private details about our fighting abilities and tools could be beaten in terms of importance, but enlighten me."

"Tony--" Bruce started, but Fury cut across his speaking, leaning on the table.  
"Stark, Barton was compromised but not in a way that brings immediate threat to this team. The few arrows he'll have lost, are easily replaced or would become common knowledge in a fight. You, however, let the enemy take something not even we're allowed to know a single wire about."

Shit. 

The stolen Arc Reactor. Fury knew, of course Fury knew, even if he'd tried to hide it until he knew exactly what had happened to it. Tony was about to be in deep shit. As he went to lean back in his chair, hands sliding under the table so he could clench them as a distraction, his mind just kept repeating ' _it wasn't my fault, it wasn't my fault_ '.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again this work is unbeta'd, so properly is clunky or doesn't make sense in parts. If you see anything, feel free too tell me so I can fix it. c:  
> (Also, writing Tony's thought process and trying to treat it similarly to how he would when interacting with J.A.R.V.I.S was tough. I feel it came out too Sherlock without the interface actually there and making it mental. I just hope others can see Tony thinking in a similar method that he would 'out loud' with J.A.R.V.I.S there to project things. )


	4. Chapter 4

"I hardly think, Director, I let them take it. In fact, the explosion that drew Capsical's attention was my final attempt of trying to prevent anything being taken from the suit."

Tony was trying to glare across at Fury to hold his ground along with his words, but the fear and rising disappointment in himself was becoming too great to form it properly, so it felt stuck between a glare and something that properly looked like he was giving up.

The others, being so useful, were all just staring at him. They didn't know the workings of his suit, so he missing reactor in the wrecked chest piece might of at first gone un-noticed, although suspicious, but now all their faces reflected knowing, hint of concern, worry, disappointment and--

Clenching his hands harder so that the nails dug in, he averted his eyes to above Fury's head. "And before you get your eye patch in a twist, have you thought for one second that blast may have damaged the reactor meaning they have a pile of metal, not something of use."

That was what Tony had hoped happened. He'd inspect the footage recorded, and also check for the reactor's personal signal once they returned to the tower. After his personal Arc Reactor had being stolen from his chest three years ago, he'd taken precaution when building the newer reactor for himself and the ones to help remove strain from using the suit. Each had a small signal that could be tracked in case they were stolen. 

The same signal when communicating with JARVIS could, in theory, allow him to destroy the reactor. Not having a chance to test it since each reactor built was important and the only one for a certain purpose, it was the final thread of hope to cling to if that robot had escaped with the reactor intact. 

Fury still had his focus on Tony, head tilted down to allow that one eye to hold focus. "You were compromised, Stark. No matter how hard you try to sugar coat this, you allowed a valuable asset to be taken from you."

If he continued to talk, Tony didn't hear it. Compromised. Maybe he was a little. Okay, a lot. But to hear it stung. No. It hurt. Just like Steve's comments about him not being a hero back when they weren't even a team and no one really knew anyone. 

"Director," Bruce suddenly spoke making Tony jump slightly from his thoughts, "I think instead of trying to find as many ways you possibly can rephrase the situation, it'd be more practical to let Tony do what he needs to ensure they don't have a 'valuable asset'."

Tony glanced at Bruce, and was thankful that they got on. Bruce would easily know that he had a plan already in his mind, even if he didn't speak or show it.  
"Doctor Banner, I don't think Stark understand the gravity of this."

"I sure do Nicky. You haven't being there when the one needed to keep me alive was pulled from my chest when I was helpless to do anything. In fact, you, "Tony stood up at this, raising one hand and pointing at Fury, "didn't turn up until after I nearly died and only told me about your boy band plans. You don't even have a right to mention my reactor or say I don't understand how bad this is."

He was sure not everyone knew about the exact nature he became Iron Man, Steve surely didn't from the 'footage' he'd watched, not like Tony made the effort to try and set things straight. But the others properly only knew the basic facts of his capture, and likely the turned around story from Obadiah's death. No one knew about that bastard stealing the reactor, no one knew he'd almost killed himself trying to stop the maniac. Hell, apart from Fury and Natasha around the table, he doubted anyone else knew he almost died by the thing keeping him alive. Bruce had being hinted, 'But you can control it' 'because I learnt how', but that hardly classed as an explanation that it tried to kill him. 

It's not different, Bruce Banner. When something happens to the reactor, to his software, to his suit - he's exposed and flawed so greatly that everyone around him will use it against him to let him know how much he messed up. 

Dropping his hand to the table and leaning against the glass, Tony looked down and took a deep breath. Whenever anything was about him, it was always everything negative. Never the positive stuff he valued. 

The reflections in the glass showed how Bruce was twitching nervously beside him, Clint and Natasha kept sharing sideward's glances in obvious confusion if they should stand for their boss or their team member. Thor had one arm rested on the folded one, a deep frown on his face as he listened, the God learning new things about his team members with each word. And then Steve, Steve was looking straight at him. 

"Tony, perhaps Director Fury is right though." Oh, don't side with him flag-pa. "A part of your suit was taken, and it's valuable. Doctor Banner knows you better, and you likely do have a plan to turn the tables but arguing now isn't going to achieve anything. Perhaps the focus should be instead, if there is a way to prevent it happening again so-"

"There's no point even finishing that sentence, Rogers. You don't have enough understanding to complete that sentence."

If his focus on the room was swaying, Tony didn't allow himself to show it. In fact, rather than be subjected to the conversation any longer, he pushed his chair away, and walked from the room. He was sure he heard someone follow him and call out his name, maybe Clint, but he didn't stop for them, and didn't stop until he was certain he was no longer being followed and finally allowed himself to lean against a wall down an empty corridor. 

No matter how much Steve Rogers would try, he'd would never manage to be his friend fully. The comparison between his father, and the criticism would always prevent it until one of them managed to change. 

And, yeah. Tony had being in this century longer than Steve. So he wasn't going to back down and accept yet another person who basically tried to mould him to be like his father. 

The same couldn't be said to Nick-you-screwed-up-Fury. There had only being one time the man had given him a positive response, and that was after he'd flown through a portal to unknown space with a nuclear bomb. The other times, all took place after times Tony had struggled. Admitting he was Iron Man, then being told he was part of a bigger picture in the least friendly way.  
Slowly dying from the poisoning and when Rhodey stole the Mark II suit, the two responses being 'he just took it' followed by an injection to his neck to remove the fatigue the poison was causing. Oh, and a pat on his backside to make him save his own life. 

Even if he wasn't a spy and general dodgy guy, Tony would struggle to trust him or class him as something above acquaintance. The way their encounters had run though, he wasn't sure if he'd call him that anymore. 

Which led to the question why he cared what that jackass said to him. Running a hand through his hair, he pushed away from the wall with a sigh and continued down the corridor until he found one of the rare bathrooms on the glorified plane. 

Thankful the room was empty as he walked towards one of the sinks, turning the cold tap to full. Cupping his hand, he gathered some of the water in his palm and managed to get a little water into his mouth before it dripped out. It was cool and refreshing, that washed away the tang of blood Tony hadn't noticed was clinging to the inside of his mouth.  
Wiping his mouth, he clutched the edge of the sink and closed his eyes briefly. Trying to find an answer to the posed question, why did he care what Fury said to him. There was no real answer for Tony, except just wanting someone to not find his faults. Or because they worked so closely together now. But whatever the reason, Tony could not fathom the answer clearly and so opened his eyes again.

Moving his vision from the taps, he looked at his reflection slowly and grimaced. The left side of his face had a bruise along his temple, though thankfully his now slicked hair from the helmet and fight was covering it slightly. Shoulders were tensed, and the shirt he was wearing was torn bellow the reactor - although that was now covered slightly by the bandages that were visible through the tear. He looked exhausted overall, almost defeated. A familiar reflection from months ago.

Tony remembered the first month after the attack on New York. After all the events, he had spent the time mostly drunk and avoiding people completely. He'd of course adapted his Stark Tower to be Avenger Tower, made a new model of his suit, but the month was mostly drinking and struggling to sleep. It had gotten easier to pretend the longer he had to play that game of being okay, but too much happened at once that he had to hide away to reset. 

He clutched the sink tighter, and looked away from the mirror, bowing down to splash cold water across his face. That was months ago. Literally just a drunken blur now, but as the water dripped off his face, and one droplet trailed down his arm he froze. His senses followed the one droplet as it left goose bumps down his arms, his skin hyper sensitive. He could almost imagine it to be a different coloured liquid.  
Glancing up at his cut off reflection in the mirror, his eyes were wide and pupils dilated; clenching his jaw, he straightened up quickly and punched the mirror, removing his reflection and thoughts of the past. 

Glass shattered to the floor. Blood and water trickled down as Tony tried to focus on the remaining cracked pieces around his fist. Why. Why couldn't he have a normal life without any shit from anybody, or more importantly, himself. It was always the same. No control, nothing solid to fall back on, a undeserving hero who only lets his team down--

Falling away from the mirror, Tony collapsed to the floor and threaded his hands into his short hair, focusing on the pain that flamed from the cut knuckles instead of on his thoughts. God fucking damnit. 

It took Tony ten minutes before he managed to stand up, walking back to the sink and turning the tap off. He only briefly caught his broken reflection again, eyes glazed over, face paler making the bruise stand out stronger and a small line of blood down the side of his face where his hand had being clenched and bleeding down. He tried not to memorize it, instead walking from the bathroom and leaving the mess behind. 

If any of the SHIELD agents looked at him, they didn't pass comment.  
If someone who knew him saw him, they did try talking to him.  
Everyone let Tony walk past until he found himself at the Quinjet, and sitting down inside, breathing deeply as he waited for the others to come back. All he wanted, was to just hide away from them to try and rid of his sickly cast.

And once the Avengers finally returned, and the jet had finally left the Helicarrier and returned to Avengers Tower, that's exactly what Tony did. Returning to his room and locking the door. Not bothering to walk to his bed, he just fell back against the door and slid down. Staying there all night as he stared at nothing, but listening to everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still no beta for this story; so mistakes all my own and feel free to point them out if anything stands out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this took forever to write.   
> I knew what had to happen, and I also knew what I'd have too put in because of what didn't happen last chapter. So squeezing two things together that could have deserved their own chapters was a pain, but means bigger update for you guys?
> 
> You also never know how long it can take you to research into items, just to write how they're destroyed and being rebuilt, until you have to do it.

When he did finally leave his room the next morning, nobody commented on what they may or may not have heard happened on the Helicarrier, and instead kept their eyes slightly averted. That suited Tony just fine as the sense of disappointment had stayed in him all night keeping him awake. 

He had bypassed his private kitchen, and the communal one on the shared floor below, instead heading down one more floor further and entering his private lab (private to the degree, that others could enter for repairs to tech or leave things for Tony to collect, but not like his very private workshop on his own floor). The suit was piled up on the table just as he'd predicted, but he ignored that first moved to the computer in the far corner. "J.A.R.V.I.S, time to wake up and get working. I'm presuming you started without me to find the reactors signal throughout the night?

"Of course, sir. I have evaluated the signal prior to it being stolen, and searched for it since but after fifteen seventeen yesterday there has being no readings from that specific reactor." Sitting in the chair, Tony nodded with a small smile, shoulders slumping as he relaxed. 

"I do believe we can conclude it was destroyed in the blast, or we are due to give some credit to Mr Doom for keeping the reactor intact but cancelling it's signal. Oh, and should I inform Mr Fury that 'you were right, he was wrong' as protocol 43 states?"

"I'm pretty sure I was likely drunk when that was created, so no need J. The only thing I want you to do is do one final search to be safe, and analyse the footage recorded to see if the cameras caught what happened for a clearer picture. Oh, could you be a darling and project the original designs of Barton's quiver as well?" 

While the his suit was needing attention, until he could feel more certain the reactor was likely destroyed, he needed to distract himself from Iron Man for the next hour or so. So he was taking it upon himself to use the experiences and destroyed quiver to develop a stronger replacement. Feather boy would properly complain at first, but why not improve on something when given the chance than just replace with a copy?

The scans Tony had taken of the quiver back when the team was officially assembled were projected in front of him by J.A.R.V.I.S. Picking up the protectors pen, he began clicking and drawing around the image - taking notes on any flaws, marking areas that were most damaged from memory, and also features he should retain either for appearance of how they made the quiver lighter and more agile for the team member.

Over the hour, the quiver was taken apart and then slowly put back together in the projected image, taking a slightly new shape. At first it didn't look different, but the workings inside for the arrow heads was changed for more efficiency, and the base in its minimal design was thicker with notes for a much more resilient metal that would still be lighter than the old design. 

It wasn't much, but as Tony dropped the pen to his side, there wasn't much you could do to a quiver. Not as many electrical components to twist and reshape, and let's be honest - unless you're Robin Hood, you don't care for bows and the tools needed for them as long as it functioned. 

"J.A.R.V.I.S, will you see that the materials needed are found," putting the pen back on the desk and finally glancing across at his piled suit, "and how goes your research project?"

"The second search for the signal has brought back the same results, sir. I conclude after also evaluating the recorded footage at both a tenth and a hundredth speed, that there is a 86% chance the reactor was damaged, if not destroyed in the wild unibeam. Which I'm sure is a relief, sir."

Tapping his fingers on the table, he nodded. "I want that footage ready for playback, as soon as I see exactly what remains of the chest plate."

"Sir, I believe you would call the chest plate 'junk' in its current state."

"Now, you don't know that J.A.R.V.I.S. Not even I could have made you that smart," Tony mused while he walked to the table and lifted the chest plate from the pile. The piece was, for lack of a better word, wrecked. 

To start, the reactor's base was empty and the metal around it warped from the explosion and the robot tearing it away. The skeleton for the suit chest pieces itself was protruding out to him, reaching out through the gaping hole. The interlocking pieces of metal that sat above the cage over his abdomen had the red paint scratched away, and one panel missing entirely. The others were bent out of shape, which had locked up the suit finally from bending forward comfortably. The chest panel which should have sat above the skeleton and over the panels was properly wherever the other missing piece was, as although Tony remembered it being only torn, he didn't remember it being pulled off. And the bare frame instead was greeting him instead of the hot red piece.

Not wanting to admit that his A.I was correct, Tony placed it down on the table again and stared at the pile. If those robots were to be used again, he needed a tactic to ensure the same didn't happen again. Clenching his hand and grimacing at the cut knuckles as pain flared in his hand, he walked back to the table and kicked the chair across to where the suit was pilled, making his way around the room slowly picking up paper and pencils. 

When he collected everywhere, he spread it across the spare space on the table and began sketching in the silence his suit and taking notes of changes to make. Tony stayed like this for the rest of the day, sketching and changing details and aspects of his suits design on paper. Content to sit in the silence and only concentrate on the one item.

It was over the next week Tony slowly felt the guilt recede, and he fell back into his usual pattern of talking to the others in the day, then spending the afternoons in his lab working on either his new suit or Clint's new quiver. 

Tony didn't know how many times he'd watched the footage of the reactor being stolen. Getting a small sense of relief each time he saw the single frame that showed the reactor's light go out, additional sparks flaring from it before the screen was filled with white and then cut to static. But it must be pretty high in the count by now. 

While he'd talked to Bruce and Clint throughout the week, Tony avoided Steve as much as possible and Natasha seemed to raise an eyebrow each time they passed - he put this down to her properly knowing what happened in that bathroom since Clint also had shared the odd look over the first two days. Thor hadn't being in the communal floor whenever Tony choose to spend an hour or two with Bruce there, which meant it had being quiet at least whenever he wasn't in the lab. And the apart from the short conversation on the phone about why the text 'I was right, you were wrong' kept flashing on Fury's screen with the man himself, Tony hadn't even talked to Fury which suited him fine. 

In fact, the whole only talking to two of the members, and ignoring the rest worked for Tony no matter how he currently felt. Even if he felt better, he still could be angry at how the de-brief went.   
It was properly even better luck that no villains or bad guys decided to attack or cause trouble for the whole week.

But luck would never last.

"I want you to give this a try before I go ahead and make the real deal. Need to know if it'll be practical enough for all your jumping around."

Clint picked the proto-type quiver from the table, looking carefully at the details and giving it the most scrutiny that Tony just turned away for the time being to give them both privacy. While it was important to make sure the quiver would be better than the previous (how couldn't it be, he redesigned it even if he'd being out of it over most the days while building it up) it was a fact that Robin Hood would check everything from the weight to the tiniest joint for practicality. 

Running a hand over the still bandaged chest, Tony lent over the desk to type on the computer when the alarm began to sound. Tony glanced over his shoulder, and raised an eyebrow. Clint smirked back while placing the proto-type back on the table, "gou do know that Natasha and Steve are out on SHIELD duty right?"

"I'll play rock, paper, scissors then who out of us two have to go then?" while raising his hand to initiate the game.   
Clint raised his hand also, and both began to shake when J.A.R.V.I.S spoke. "Sir, Loki is attacking near the shore line of downtown Manhattan."

"Not now J.A.R.V.I.S, busy."  
"But sir, Doctor Banner is unable to attend, which means both Mr Barton and yourself need to leave immediately with Mr Odinson."

Glancing upwards somewhere, Tony went to open his mouth to reply when something small hit his face. Looking back at Clint, he could only tilt his head slightly to the side and raise an eyebrow. "Really Barton?"

"Paper arrow beats man not paying attention."

After that, Clint jogged out the room. Tony shook his head, then followed him to go down to his private lab to retrieve the Mark 6 suit. If Loki wanted to disrupt his plans, he'd play along for now. 

x----x

Firstly, the pain in his chest was now beyond something he could stand.   
Secondly, Loki was a horrible bitch. 

Instead of taking the Quinjet, once Tony was in his suit and was stood of the improv launch pad for Thor with the God and Hawkeye, they decided to simply carry the archer the small flight to save time (Tony made a mental note to finish that hover bike idea he started for smaller tasks like this).   
Mistake number one. 

After dropping Clint where he had the best view, Thor went in first to tackle Loki before any more damaged was caused.  
Mistake number two. 

Thor had then cast thunder at Loki, but during the force of nature Loki had cast magic and duplicated himself - the real one disappearing among it's duplicates.   
Mistake number three.

The fourth mistake, was allowing all the clones to dispersed meaning the plan of covering close up, mid ground and air was ruined by sudden manic God in everyone's face. And who knew which was the real one, because there were five of them now distracting the team members, even if Tony only had to deal with one for some stupid reason. 

If Tony was to be truthful though, mistake number five, was what got him into the problem right now. 

Huddled on the ground, hand pressed his chest, he tried to control his breathing. Loki had being blasting him around like a ragdoll with a less glow-y stick of doom, and the constant blasts to his abdomen had caused the wound from the previous week, to become very painful under all the metal. Magic was foul play when he hadn't yet managed to study it in his labs to counteract it fairly. 

Jolly old Thor was somewhere down the street to his left if the smashing was an indication, and Hawkeye was... well, somewhere above him. An arrow had being deflected to the ground earlier on, but there had being no other sign of his battle since Loki duplicated himself. 

Tony gasped, and tried to straighten up and ignore the pain (and the flashing on the HUD informing of where pain killers were helpfully trying to numb the pain) but another blast of magic hit the ground near his hands and cement exploded into the air. 

He raised his hand, and pointed it at Loki and fired a repulsor shot that sent the God backwards with a grunt. Using this short moment, Tony managed to stand gritting his teeth, then point both hands towards Loki. "J.A.R.V.I.S, try to reserve energy. May have to use the unibeam if he keeps treating me like one of his toys to break."

The small bar to the side replaced the damage metre to show the suits power available without a word from J.A.R.V.I.S, but Tony gave it a single glance before firing two more shots from his repulsors. The first missed, but the second caught Loki again and the sceptre fell from his hand. 

Walking forward, Tony blasted it away from Loki. "I wouldn't move Reindeer Games. I'm pretty sure you're the original, so you wouldn't want to seriously damage your pretty face now, would you?"

Loki smirked up at him, and there was a glint in his eyes. Tony stopped near Loki, frowning under the suit when Loki began to talk, "Or you could simply be the least troublesome of the three here so I don't need to devote as much magic to you?"

"Heh, yeah. Doubt tha-"

Something grabbed him from behind, allowing Loki to send another blast of magic to his knees. Tony collapsed to his knees and grit his teeth at the sudden pain from his knees hitting the ground so harshly, before the person behind him then used the new position to slam his face to the ground. 

The HUD glitched, so Tony closed his eyes tightly and ignored the wet feeling on his forehead that dripped down his face and onto the liquid crystal plate over the eyes. "You should know by now Stark, not to make accusations. I am the God of Lies and Trickery in your books, am I not?"

Well, he thought it was God of Mischief of Lies and Mischief, but he'll go with what the God said at this time. He opened his eyes and saw the crystal plate did have drops of blood on its surface making the usually cool blue display now be distorted slightly and purple and harder to view. 

Tony tried to push himself from the ground, but Loki was preventing him from doing so by kneeling over him. And- fuck, his chest hurt. And his head. 

Taking another deep breath, Tony tried to clear his mind. Last week, he was pinned down by robots. This week, he's pinned down by a crazed God. Next week, he'd properly find himself under a car somewhere after helping a little old lady cross the street. The panic rose in him again that had slowly diminished throughout the week, and Tony clenched his hands around the rubble. 

He wasn't going to make the same mistake again. 

The boosters in his suit kicked in, and forgetting about the paint on the suit, he slid forward and away from Loki's grasp, then managed to kneel to face Loki again. Loki was stood up again, and looked pissed. Whether this was good or bad, Tony didn't know but prepared for anything in his slightly muddled mind of rising guilt and panic, and concentrate on the fight in front of him clearly. 

Kick Loki's ass, stop himself feeling as panicked, and then back to the tower in time for a drink. Simple.   
Wrong. 

Loki, being pissed, raised both his hands and instead of the usual blasting magic he was use to seeing with the sceptre, something slightly more smoky quickly left Loki's hands and Tony inhaled it before he realised exactly what was going on. 

It tasted of ice and had an acidic taste, but that wasn't the worst part. With only a small mouth full, Tony soon felt like someone was stabbing him in the gut. Swaying, he managed to get the visor to raise as he vomited up blood. 

"You mortals find yourself so cocky, and think yourself so powerful."

Tony blinked slowly down at the blood, feeling the blood still on his forehead drip down slowly with hyper sensitivity due to his body suddenly dropping temperature.   
Footsteps started to get closer with an echo, and Tony could only focus on them and his own heart beat as it began to race. 

"But you're not, you are far from powerful. Merely little ants, crawling around trying to avoid damage to their home."

As the panic increased, so did the pain in his gut seemed to increase and the built defence wall he wore against others slowly seemed to crumble in the pain. What had Loki cast, he thought while he shook again and spat more blood to the pavement. "S-stop."

"Already begging for mercy? How much guilt must you be hiding to cause you that much pain? I am only showing your true feelings Stark."

A boot caught his stomach, and pushed him to his back. Tony looked up as Loki knelt over him, smirking with the clear thought of defeat in his mind. Tony thought about struggling again, but the spell Loki had cast was too pain with the already inflected pain. So instead, he closed his eyes against it, and laid there for a moment, before he finally managed to open his eyes against the pain and lock his eyes with Loki's.

The malicious smirk on the pale face suddenly faulted, replaced with a frown. It wasn't angry or negative, but rather more from confusion. Something different to the usual crazed or controlled God. "What are you hiding behind that wall?"

Tony only stared at the change and his words, before he closed his eyes once again.   
"I can see it, and yet not. Why do y--"

"Loki, move away from Man of Iron!"  
There was the sound of Mjölnir being thrown, but no sound of impact as Loki teleported away from the scene. Mjölnir flew back to Thor above Tony, once it was caught footsteps began closer to where he was laid. 

Tony reopened his eyes to Thor's concerned face above him. "How do you fair?"  
"Everything hurts, and whatever Loki cast has really had a negative effect. Other than that, fine. At least the suit's still in one piece."

He tried to smile, but his mouth only twitched upwards once before it went straight again. There was just no energy to smile in his current state. The spell, whatever it was, had broken the wall he had up for others to not see the real him. Not only breaking the wall, but him as well. His gut still felt like it was stabbed, and his skin felt more sensitive as the blood still trailed down his forehead, dried against his lips, and generally every piece of metal on bare skin made his skin itch.   
The suit felt so claustrophobic in this state. It never felt claustrophobic.   
Groaning, Tony tried to sit up, but Thor shook his head. "Nay, whatever Loki cast upon you may have lasting effects. It would be better for you to stay still until we are certain you are okay."

Tony glanced at Thor, wanting to reply, but instead fell back against the concrete. 

It took an hour before the three of them returned to the Tower, Clint being found on the roof top panting with blood also trickling down his head before they flew back. As soon as they had arrived, Tony with Clint was pulled aside to be checked over by Bruce. Clint for bandages, Tony to make sure there wasn't any after effects, and that the spell hadn't left any permanent damage as well as bandages. 

The others had watched from a distance with concern, Steve wearing an expression that spoke he wanted to talk with him alone. But as soon as the suit was off with the all clear from Bruce and fresh bandages to his chest and forehead, he escaped to his private floor to hide away from everyone before they could ask questions or he could show too much in his shaken state.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, Loki appeared. Maybe not how you imaged straight away, but he'll take his role soon.  
> Can rush him into it, he's still a bad guy, guys~
> 
> Once again, still an un-beta'd story. So any mistakes are purely my own, and anything comic/canon related that's wrong is all so my own fault for not knowing everything too well. (Except for Clint if he seems different to move!Clint... I'm writing him more based on his comic version because we've seen more of his personality there than the movies. Specifically though, he's the current Hawkeye comics based.)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-beta'd still, so feel free to tell me any glaring ones. 
> 
> I also apologise for Tony in this chapter.  
> But there is Loki again, so that's okay. Right? ono'

After several hours of alcohol, the day's events were all a blur to Tony by this point. The battle with Loki and the renewed concern from his team members shown upon his return- they were all a blur in the mess of his head. Sitting in the corner of his darkened room, shaking and tightly clasping the liquor bottle.

 

The door was locked, and J.A.R.V.I.S had being given strict instructions to not let anyone in. Tony wanted them to believe he was thinking over the fight (true, but not how they thought), or in too much pain for staying around (also true).  At least no one had disturbed him about de-briefing.

 

A cold blade was clasped in his hand, the end glistening red in the faint light, his bared skin at his wrist aching still with his chest even through the drunk haze.

 

"Why do you do this to yourself?"

 

Dropping the blade, Tony glanced up to see who had spoken in panic, and at first thought he was imagining who he was seeing so casually leant against the wall opposite.

 

"I should ask how you managed to get past the security, or even into my room unnoticed, but that would be a waste of time with you, wouldn't it?"

Tony met his visitor's eyes, the dark brown locked onto the piercing blue and the neutral expression worn.

 

"Yes, it would. But you did not answer my question which I asked you first."

 

"I never was one for manners."

 

The unwelcomed visitor pushed off the wall with their shoulder, and walked into the light from the city outside, a small smile playing at the edge of their mouth hopefully from the remark about manners. In the light, Tony could see more of them. From ground level, they looked even taller than normal and suddenly a lot more intimidating, even without the minimal amour. Shoulder and arm covers were removed, along with the chest covering leaving a casual appearance for someone once so intent on taking over the Earth. To Tony, it made no logical sense why this person would appear in his room after the day's events, and perhaps more annoyingly at this particular moment. He wasn't in the right mind to entertain or be his usual self at this current time.

 

"Loki, _what_ are you doing in my room."

The God smiled closed lip this time, dropping his head an inch as if to try and cover it. "You are still avoiding my question, but I shall play along, "he started, raising his head slightly to make eye contact again. "To see you. Or more accurately, to make sure you didn't do something foolish."

 

He stepped forward again, then lent down in front of Tony, looking him in the eyes fiercely as he balanced on the front of his feet. Without looking away, he reached out and picked up the discarded blade and held onto it tightly. "I have gathered the impression I was a little late though."

 

"A villain, caring for someone playing on the opposite side. How quaint. And it's a God villain, so I should also feel honoured. Excuse me if I don't show it."

 

"This isn't a game I've come to play, Stark."

"Then answer my next question - why is the God of Mischief and Lies, or do you prefer trickery as you called yourself earlier today, in my bedroom when I want no one around. Saying he cares what happens to me when hours ago he was trying to smash my face in a battle? And let's not mention casting weird magic on me I'm still feeling hours later."

It was spoken quickly, a small hint of panic in his voice even as he hoped to appear more calm then he knew he looked or felt. It's just the spell from earlier, he kept repeating as he clenched then unclenched his empty hand constantly.

 

Blue eyes flashed swiftly, a brief green hazing across before they narrowed, and Loki leant back on the back of his feet, crossing his arms over his knees. The reply that came was harshly spoken, and made Tony flinch as he listened to the Loki was he use to hearing. "This, is not my fault stupid mortal. The magic I cast earlier wouldn't have lasted this long, not when I cancelled the spell when I saw through your facade. Do not try blaming me for your weakness."

 

They both stayed in silence after the sharp words were spoken, the faint New York City traffic  piercing the gap. Tony gripping tighter onto the bottle, trying to stop the shaking in his body. Loki seemingly stayed still after his words. Tony could feel the piercing gaze on him, feeling the focus switch between his face and his empty hand and wrist. Which he turned away on instinct.

 

Finally, with a sigh, Loki stood and began to pull the heavy leather jacket off and threw it over the bed, throwing the blade also so it was out of reach. Then he moved next to Tony, leaning against the wall and sliding down to the ground to sit beside him; close enough to be nearly touching but with enough distance so the Avenger wouldn't feel anymore threatened. Beyond the obvious of full time villain casually taking up residence on his carpet in the middle of the night. "How do you know what I say will be the truth? As you spoke yourself, I am a God of Lies."

 

A shrug was the only reply, followed by tensing and then another drink to the bottle. "I won't know, and I wouldn't care if you did. The least you can do is explain and give me something to do if you're not going to just leave."

 

Loki again narrowed his eyes, then reached across as Tony lifted the bottle again, taking it away from his grasp. Tony tried to ignore how his hand gripped at nothing at first, and how then the shaking returned stronger, gut twisting as it had earlier. Loki had appeared from nowhere and taken the two things he could easily control and trust from his reach, leaving him only to sit in the corner and shake. The panic almost made Tony want to throw up.

 

He pulled his knee's up tightly to his body, moving slightly more away from the unwanted visitor, resting his head against his knee's, not caring if Loki could see him like this anymore, at least until he was able to control the damn shaking. He tried to take deep calming breaths, ignoring the air as it became stuffy.

"The God of Mischief and Lies is in your room simple because, earlier today when I had you held down and your helmet raised, you did not care.

 

"I know you Anthony Stark, and admitting defeat so easily does not seem something I'd take you for. The spell I cast only caused pain by hidden feelings. The more the victim is hiding, the worse pain they endure. But the pain you were enduring was far greater than what I would have expected, and your response when I could have easily killed you was both confusing and enlightening. The pain, the guilt, I could see it all, and at the same time could see nothing."

 

Loki paused to take a breath and shifted slightly to be more comfortable. Tony moved one hand from his knee, and took hold of his other wrist. Squeezing it slightly in a more drastic attempt to keep calm, ignoring how slick his skin felt from the blood.  

 

"I want to know why," Loki continued, "What is hidden behind your emotional guard wall. Why you have one, why I can't see behind it clearly without that spell. And why at that moment, before my blundering brother turned up, I saw something I knew only too well."

He paused again, Tony listening carefully now; "What made you like this Anthony Stark? I've seen you in battle, at the parties, and the current Stark before me seems nothing more than a weak mortal I see every day on this realm. What has broken a man of iron down?"

 

Raising his head slightly and to the side slightly, Tony looked  at Loki's face; seeing concentration set in place, the slight frown betraying some other emotion, eyes focused intently on him as though he was some great mystery to unravel. Maybe he was, but not by the guy who was a massive thorn in his backside. But thorns only hurt when you treated them badly. Everything Loki was saying was true.

Over the years, he'd only wanted to be noticed. Not what he showed frontward, to everyone. But what was hidden behind that. Even if the idea scared him.  

 

"What did you see earlier? In the fight?"

 

"I saw desperation, nothing, and the dullness that comes only when you've given up. I saw a lot of things in that one glance, Stark."

 

Tony turned his head again, resting it back against his knees and taking a deep breath. He sat like this for a while, before he heard movement beside him and then cool air as Loki pressed his side against his casually. The cool air that seemed to follow Loki was fresh to the stuffy warm air in his position, and so taking another deep breath he spoke quietly. That small touch cleared his mind of everything, leaving just a great sadness and left his body more numb than the alcohol and bloody wrists could do.  "No one has noticed before."

  
"No one?"

"No one."

 

He gave a small laugh, which turned into a small noise as he tried to hold the tears back, at the idea someone had finally noticed, just someone. "I guess you can't keep lies from the God of Lies. No matter how long you've had them."

 

"If there is any consolation, it was only that one moment I noticed and I can be hard to trick in such ways. Stark?"

Beside Loki, Tony had started shaking again, only this time it was because he had started crying, his body finally too exhausted. It shocked Loki to see him cry, as he was unsure what he was going to find turning up. He had hoped it was a mistake in the heat of battle, but seeing the most arrogant member of his rivals break down was not what he expected. He glanced around the dark room, before making a decision.

Loki knelt on his knees and then moved the smaller man forward, ignoring the small pull against the movement to back into the corner again. "Don't make this any harder Star--, Anthony."

 

Upon hearing his name, Tony's whole body seem to relax as the pulling stopped, allowing Loki to move him far enough from the wall that he could slide behind him and then pull the mortal against his chest and hold him there as he cried, his arms wrapped tightly around his waist and long legs laid straight out encasing Tony.

 

He gave no comforting actions, and didn't speak once after that except through the frown he wore. He stayed sat there, even after Tony had fallen asleep, fully exhausted, his mind wondering several things at once in the darkness to the sound of deep breathing.

 

In the morning, Tony woke up with a headache, expecting to still be on the floor in the corner and discover everything that happened last night to be a dream. But instead he found himself in his bed, something soft wrapped around his upper arms to his numb wrists and when he finally managed to open his eyes, a note placed on top of a green velvet notebook which wasn't there yesterday on the table beside his bed.

 

_'I still have questions, but I'm sure opportunity will arise again. If you feel like answering, see the notebook for more details._

_L'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If by chance this seems familiar, I originally wrote this chapter as an experiment on Tumblr. And then it gave birth to this whole idea.   
> It's just being changed to fit the plot, but 90% is the same as I originally wrote.


	7. Chapter 7

After a quick wash in the sink, Tony emerged from his bedroom wearing a longer sleeved top to hide the bandages, and headed down towards the communal kitchen area floors bellow (where the actual healthy food was stored) for something to fill his stomach that wasn't alcohol. He'd hope that the area would be clear as it was too late for breakfast, but too early for lunch by their achieved arrangements. However, luck was not on his side as he emerged from the elevator to see Steve Rogers, man he'd being avoiding as much as humanly possible all week, sat at the table and now staring at him.

 

It was far too obvious he'd being waiting for him to appear.

 

"How are you feeling this morning?"

Way too obvious.

 

Tony felt hi automatic facade fall into place even after last night, wide smile filling his face."Fine. Better than fine. A little sore from being Loki's personal rag doll, but what can you expect from the God with a temper tantrum to rival the Hulk's?"

 

This all just felt fake, and subconsciously his hands went into his jeans pockets to remove emphasis on them, while preventing him from making unnecessary movements. Steve continued to look, before he ducked his head with a small shake. "We were a little worried after you disappeared."

 

Knowing he wouldn't be so easily able to escape now, Tony walked from the elevator and sat at the table. He picked an apple out the fruit bowl someone had placed there - properly Bruce. His left hand held the fruit, while his right stayed under the table and out of sight. Out of sight, out of mind. And a small comfort as he curled his fingers in so they dug lightly into his palm.

 

"Well, I just wanted some time alone. Wasn't in the mood to sit through another discussion about a fight that didn't go A-Fury-Okay so soon, when all I could think about was the constant pain from being someone's toy. You know, I think I understand how those small Iron Man toys feel now when kids get their hands on them."

 

Tony bit into the apple and carefully watched Steve once he finished speaking.

If he was honest, the Captain looked a little stressed. His always perfect hair wasn't brushed flat while dressed in clothes much more casual than usual. The half eaten bowl of cereal was also a clue, since the super solider serum had left Steve with a higher metabolism - needing more energy, meant needing more food. Bruce partially suffered the same after Hulking out, but  at least it gradually faded away. As long as a meal wasn't too close to him coming back from being the Hulk, Tony didn't feel it in his bank balance (the Shawarma joint experience was the first time he experienced Bruce's munchies, having watched the quieter man manage his own, half of Tony's and one extra for take away).

 

So Capsical had a rough night as well over worrying about his team, though he likely was missing the confusing meeting with the God who inflicted a lot of the pain he was feeling. Taking another bite, Tony looked past Steve's shoulder to the city landscape while waiting for him to talk.

 

The velvet notebook returned to his thoughts while waiting. Trying to decipher why Loki would give him something so normal, with such an obscure message. Mainly because it was left by Loki, and the proposed questions. Just what had taken the God's interest, beyond seeing past the facade Tony wore at times. It'd properly be easier to ignore the book, and not think on it. But this was Tony Stark, and if something took his interest, he would solve it.

 

Maybe whatever Loki wanted, would turn out horribly wrong because they both seemed to suffer the same complex, Tony mused with another bite.

 

"Tony, you've being avoiding me since last week. And instead of talking to any of us properly, you've mostly being hiding away. More than what's usual for you."

 

He almost choked on the piece of apple he was chewing, and tightened his fist. "Do you blame me? Last week, I was essentially told I was compromised and most vulnerable on this team. In front of everyone. And not one of my 'friends' tried to tell Fury otherwise. Then, yesterday, I found myself in a similar situation where I knew you," Tony pointing at Steve finally looking at him, "being the Golden Boy, would give me the same talk."

 

Steve frowned, but glanced away from looking directly at Tony, making the slowly fading fake smile he wore seem a little more natural due to the sudden smugness. "Would you just listen. We only said those things because we were concerned - we're your team. None of us want to see you hurt or killed."

 

"And I'm sure that justifies everything you've ever said in your own world. But not in mine."

The apple was mostly eaten now, so Tony took the last bite and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he stood up finally letting the smile drop. "Don't worry though," he started as he walked towards the lift and binned the core, "if my vulnerability ever did get me killed there's enough money put towards the Avengers that you won't be out of a job. Well, if being an Avenger is your full time job. Sometimes I think you work for Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D."

 

"Ton-"

 

The elevator doors shut before whatever Steve was going to say could be said. Tony leant back against the elevator wall with a deep breath and finally unclenched his hand. Willing his body to relax as he pressed the button for the floor bellow for his lab.

 

After the encounter, Tony was tempted to leave the tower for a while, for some fresh air. But this was his home. And if someone was in his not-so-private lab, then he'd just go to his very-private workshop and put it in lock down. He really hoped it didn't have to come to that, but if Fury was gifted wrapped with a bow, drastic evasion techniques would have to be applied.

 

The elevator doors opened, and Tony leant out with his arms against the door frame. He glanced around, making sure there were no surprise Fury presents, then walked out into the empty room and rubbed his wrist with a slight squeeze.

 

Loki may have wrapped his arms up (well, it had to be Loki unless he could sleep walk now), but clearly he hadn't done anything but cover them at a guess by the pain flaring from movement. But that was good. It was something to help ground him.

 

The prototype quiver was still where it had being abandoned yesterday, so he had a choice of more human interaction with Clint. Or working on his suit and talking with J.A.R.V.I.S - quiver, Tony thought with a grimace. The encounter with magic had turned a few extra ideas in his mind, but none were plausible without the data.

  
"J.A.R.V.I.S, do me a favour and locate Clint. And tell him to get his arse to the training floor with some of his arrows. We're going to test this proto-type."

 

"Of course Sir, and may I add I'm pleased to see you up so early after last night."

  
Tony raised an eyebrow as he picked the quiver up and inspected it. "Sometimes, I think you've developed emotions. Did you worry about me?"

 

"My programming was always left where I could self-develop my awareness. Emotions are not yet part of that awareness yet though sir, I merely form words I feel would be most appropriate."

 

That, sounded like J.A.R.V.I.S was trying to be funny. Doesn't have emotions, but can feel. Defiantly J.A.R.V.I.S trying to be funny. Tony made a hmm noise in reply, heading back to the elevator.

 

The training floor was two floors bellow Bruce's own private lab (found bellow Tony's). Bruce was at all times as close to the ground as possible under his direction, and for safety between the labs and the training floor where a lot of the guns were stored there was a floor that was, in theory, Hulk-proof.

 

Tony had no idea where Clint would be at this time, usually he saw him in the afternoon; but he had looked a little beaten up himself. So, Tony mentally bet he would turn up in his shorts fresh from bed. Once the doors opened to the training floor's corridor, he gave one glance to be sure it was empty, then walked down to the open spaced training room. Clint had once shot arrows on the wall, so it made sense to have him shoot arrows at the same wall.

 

The lights automatically turned on upon walking in, the old arrows still imbedded in the wall as the only greeting. Placing the quiver down against the wall, Tony absently rubbed his wrist once and clenched his hand while waiting for the archer to arrive. The doubt of having to interact with someone else rose, the fleeting thought to just leave the quiver for Clint and escape to his workshop until he squeezed harder. While he didn't try to talk to people after events like the night before, he was a big boy. Clint was cool, so there was no need to get so worried.

 

When Clint walked into the room, Tony had finally released his wrist and calmed himself down externally. With a small smile, he turned to look at Clint and took in the appearance. Boxer shorts, purple baggy shirt, dishevelled hair, bandage wrapped up his left hand and the start of several strips appearing on his shoulder, carrying a handful of arrows and two bows as requested.

  
"I see Bruce got you too after I left yesterday."

 

"He even got Thor. I don't think he was too happy with any of us, but it was five Loki's. I'd like to see the Hulk manage that many."

 

Clint's already stuck up hair was made worse as he ran his hand through it with a yawn after moving the bows to free a hand. "What did you want me for anyway? J.A.R.V.I.S said to bring my bow and a few arrows."

 

Picking up the prototype, Tony almost waved it around. "Since we were so rudely interrupted yesterday, thought you might enjoy a few test shots to see if you can draw arrows easily. No point making one, then finding out while pretty it doesn't do its job very well."

 

Clint glanced down at his clothing, then gave a shrug. Placing one of the bows down, he reached across and took the prototype. As he placed the arrows within the quiver, he glanced up at Tony from the floor. "You do know this still won't be accurate. I can't exactly attach this to my shirt."

 

"And whose fault is that for not being awake and thinking things through. If I say bow and arrows, surely some part of your brain must think 'quiver'."

 

Not replying Clint just raised his bow and moving quickly, drawing one of the arrows back from the quiver on the floor. Releasing it, the arrow hit the wall just below the other bundle already there.

 

Tony watched as Clint then continued to draw the arrows in different ways, kneeling, and sliding along the floor, and once asking if Tony could hold the quiver too his back to at least see if he could draw from his back. It was fascinating watching him practise and hit the same target each time despite needing to change position constantly to draw a new arrow.

 

After firing the second to last arrow, Clint finally relaxed his body from the firing position and turned to look at Tony. "I think the design will work great. At least, it's better than the temp I was using yesterday. Whatever you did, worked a charm."

 

Tony couldn't help but smile slightly from where he was lent. "That's only the prototype remember. The final thing will be lighter, smoother to use."

 

Clint looked down at his bow for a second, before he smiled. "Still, Stark strikes again."

Tony shook his head slightly, standing straight and tugging the sleeves down. "Well then, I can get on with constructing the final product then."

 

He was about to walk away, but when Clint's bow tapped his shoulder, he turned around to see the younger man stood extending the second bow and final arrow. Tony raised his eyebrow at the offer, but Clint just held them towards Tony further. "I'm free all afternoon if you haven't heard, Cap discharged me of Avenger business for a few days while I recover. Strictly speaking, I shouldn't even be shooting down here right now due to my shoulder," he admitted sheepishly, glancing away and rolling his shoulder.

 

"So the quiver can wait a few hours I'm sure. All the others get to watch you struggle with their fighting style. My turn, surely?"

 

It was true that the other Avengers had, at different times, taken Tony down to the training room to train with them. After the first time it happened, he'd banned anyone not involved from being in the room if he was going to be forced through it. Clint was, unless it counted him helping Natasha or laughing from the corner, the only one to not have pulled Tony aside for anything. "Change of heart? Or do you finally trust me with your bow?"

 

"Let's just say, you look like you could do with letting off some steam. And I could do with some entertainment."

 

Clint then placed the bow and arrow tactically on the floor, knowing Tony wouldn't take it directly from him. So almost reluctantly, Tony picked the bow up and glanced at the classic design. Pulling the wire gently to twang it, watching it vibrate till it came to a stop. He then reached down and picked the arrow up also and glanced back at Clint who, from somewhere, had produced an arm guard.

 

Even if he felt useless and conflicted, a less explosive way of letting off steam would properly be better for everyone in the long run. Once the arm guard Clint started to wrap around his forearm was in place, Tony only flinching away once, Clint moved back with a gleam in his eyes. At least someone was enjoying themselves.

 

Clint then started to rattle on about the posture of firing arrows, how to not fire and have the wire hit his arm. Tony mostly tuned out for it, allowing Clint to put his body in the right position. Making a stick fire across the room shouldn't be too difficult.

 

Apparently, it was. Once Clint stopped talking and moved back, Tony tensed his arm and drew the arrow back against the wire. Taking a deep breath, he let go of the wire and instantly started swearing as it struck his forearm despite the guard. Then grimaced as the arrow was nowhere near the wall target. Clint beside him was laughing at the poor attempt.

 

By the end of the day, Tony was feeling exhausted. Not in a 'I must sleep soon' way, but emotional and 'ready to stay locked away from people' way. Having spent a further hour with Clint trying to shoot one arrow anywhere into the wall, he'd soon holed himself in the private workshop to start manufacturing the quiver. The notes and drawings for the new suit laid abandoned all day, although one small note was added before he left of _'need to magic proof'_.

 

It was now dark again, and Tony was sat on the edge of his bed. Massaging his forehead with his fingers, the velvet notebook beside him. With no more distractions, and the only urge to not pretend to be normal, he could focus on the book left by Loki.

 

Even when hanging out with Clint, it'd being on his mind. It was obviously magical - the cover had a tingle when touched that was foreign, much like technology had a hum - but that didn't explain what Loki meant in his note about 'using the notebook'. It was still just paper after all.

 

Glancing at it, Tony finally let his hand drop from his forehead as he slowly reach for it. Unlike technology with its hums, a book couldn't be taken apart to understand how it worked. So, he opened the book and flipped through a few pages, inspecting the pages carefully and, yup, they were just normal sheets of paper.

"What are you meant to even do?"

 

He only asked it to fill the silence, but the book suddenly snapped straight in his hands and flipped to the first pages. On the inside cover, what should have being plain black paper, someone had written down the page in small curled writing with silver ink.

 

_'Stark,_

_If you are reading this, then your curiosity led you to opening the notebook. Whether you found this writing yourself or the enchantment on the pages guided you to it is another matter._

_As my note said, you have sparked an interest after our 'talk', and I have many questions I wish to ask. First, I should explain the nature of this book. It has being enchanted by myself, to allow communication between us. Your book is connected to a similar one in my possession, which if you do not realise means what you write in book one, appears in book two. And the same in reverse, I write in book two, it shall appear in your own copy._

_For precautions, the enchantment also makes all words written by either of us disappear by those we do not wish to read them. I'm sure if you do decide to compile with my curiosity, you would not what anyone else to read what you have written._

_That is, a basic summary of what this notebook does. Whether you choose to write in it, is your choice. But I will not write first, nor will I answer any questions you may decide to write first. You can write anything you want, or if you so wished, you could even request a personal social meeting if your trust can expand that far._

_This shall be all I leave thus in the notebook, but I do hope you use it and engage with my spark of interest. It would be beneficial to us both, I'm sure._

_Loki'_

 

Right. Tony ran a finger over the ink, then looked at the opposite plain white page. He didn't trust what Loki had written, it was still Loki, super villain on Earth, enemy of the Avengers ect. But, he really was curious.

 

With a faint smile, he picked up the pen he'd placed on the bed earlier, and then tapped it against his bottom lip. He had questions; which Loki wouldn't answer if he wrote them down. Loki wanted answers; that Tony wouldn't write till he understood more about this... arrangement? Development? Whatever it is.  

So something that wasn't a question, wasn't an answer, but was likely to get Loki's attention.

 

It was childish, but he put the pen to the bottom half of the page, and then started to draw. First the basic outline of someone with both their arms raised, then the helmet, hair, cape - pause for a second to decide on the facial expression - frowny eyes and a straight line for the mouth, then finally the details of the leather outfit Tony was accustomed to seeing him wearing. A small Loki. Inspecting the caricature , he finished it off with a speech bubbled with the words 'I am a God you puny Mortals'.

 

No piece of art, but it'd do to try and get a response. Putting the book down, Tony then stood up from the bed and stretched with a wince. Who knew how long it'd take to possibly get a response, so he decided to take a bath (he wanted a shower, but as he stripped the shirt off, he saw the bandages that still were wrapped around his arms and though better of it, he'd never be able to get them so neatly again, nor did he want to see what was beneath them currently) to pass some of the time. It helped him relax at first and allow the irritated chest to be washed and freed from bandages, but his mind started to race as he sat in the water, events and thoughts from the past two weeks company that in the end cut the bath short as he grew more anxious.

 

Once dry, he walked from the bathroom in only his pyjama trousers, rubbing the bruised and healing flesh on his chest. He glanced briefly at the city beyond his window, then sat down on his bed again. As he started to rewrap the sore skin again, he glanced down at the book in curiosity.

 

The book was still open as he left it, only instead of the two pages having the silver writing and his black scribble, a second drawing was alongside the small Loki in green ink. A small Tony, more crudely drawn that made small Loki look like a piece of art now, stood in the Iron Man suit without the helmet winking at him. A small speech bubble came off him saying 'I'm Tony Stark, and I'm a million times better than you.'

And above the smaller Loki, the same curved text had appeared saying 'a very crude representation, Stark.'

 

Suddenly,  a little of the anxiety faded away as Tony tied off the bandage. Loki had, in a equally bizarre way, replied. So the notebook was magical as well as connected to a twin in Loki's possession. Whatever reason Loki had taken an interest him in, perhaps against Tony's better judgment, it couldn't be totally bad.

 

Tony shuffled down the bed, taking the book with him. He settled beneath the quilt, book beside him, and after calling J.A.R.V.I.S to reducing the lighting, wrote 'your own drawing wasn't much better'.

Over the next hour, every inch of the page was filled with black and green writing as Tony wrote to Loki about the two drawings, the tight wound up feeling he'd experienced all day with the anxiety fading away slowly, until he finally fell asleep waiting for a reply. 

After a quick wash in the sink, Tony emerged from his bedroom wearing a longer sleeved top to hide the bandages, and headed down towards the communal kitchen area floors bellow (where the actual healthy food was stored) for something to fill his stomach that wasn't alcohol. He'd hope that the area would be clear as it was too late for breakfast, but too early for lunch by their achieved arrangements. However, luck was not on his side as he emerged from the elevator to see Steve Rogers, man he'd being avoiding as much as humanly possible all week, sat at the table and now staring at him.

 

It was far too obvious he'd being waiting for him to appear.

 

"How are you feeling this morning?"

Way too obvious.

 

Tony felt his automatic facade fall into place even after last night, wide smile filling his face."Fine. Better than fine. A little sore from being Loki's personal rag doll, but what can you expect from the God with a temper tantrum to rival the Hulk's?"

 

This all just felt fake, and subconsciously his hands went into his jeans pockets to remove emphasis on them, while preventing him from making unnecessary movements. Steve continued to look, before he ducked his head with a small shake. "We were a little worried after you disappeared."

 

Knowing he wouldn't be so easily able to escape now, Tony walked from the elevator and sat at the table. He picked an apple out the fruit bowl someone had placed there - properly Bruce. His left hand held the fruit, while his right stayed under the table and out of sight. Out of sight, out of mind. And a small comfort as he curled his fingers in so they dug lightly into his palm.

 

"Well, I just wanted some time alone. Wasn't in the mood to sit through another discussion about a fight that didn't go A-Fury-Okay so soon, when all I could think about was the constant pain from being someone's toy. You know, I think I understand how those small Iron Man toys feel now when kids get their hands on them."

 

Tony bit into the apple and carefully watched Steve once he finished speaking.

If he was honest, the Captain looked a little stressed. His always perfect hair wasn't brushed flat while dressed in clothes much more casual than usual. The half eaten bowl of cereal was also a clue, since the super solider serum had left Steve with a higher metabolism - needing more energy, meant needing more food. Bruce partially suffered the same after Hulking out, but  at least it gradually faded away. As long as a meal wasn't too close to him coming back from being the Hulk, Tony didn't feel it in his bank balance (the Shawarma joint experience was the first time he experienced Bruce's munchies, having watched the quieter man manage his own, half of Tony's and one extra for take away).

 

So Capsical had a rough night as well over worrying about his team, though he likely was missing the confusing meeting with the God who inflicted a lot of the pain he was feeling. Taking another bite, Tony looked past Steve's shoulder to the city landscape while waiting for him to talk.

 

The velvet notebook returned to his thoughts while waiting. Trying to decipher why Loki would give him something so normal, with such an obscure message. Mainly because it was left by Loki, and the proposed questions. Just what had taken the God's interest, beyond seeing past the facade Tony wore at times. It'd properly be easier to ignore the book, and not think on it. But this was Tony Stark, and if something took his interest, he would solve it.

 

Maybe whatever Loki wanted, would turn out horribly wrong because they both seemed to suffer the same complex, Tony mused with another bite.

 

"Tony, you've being avoiding me since last week. And instead of talking to any of us properly, you've mostly being hiding away. More than what's usual for you."

 

He almost choked on the piece of apple he was chewing, and tightened his fist. "Do you blame me? Last week, I was essentially told I was compromised and most vulnerable on this team. In front of everyone. And not one of my 'friends' tried to tell Fury otherwise. Then, yesterday, I found myself in a similar situation where I knew you," Tony pointing at Steve finally looking at him, "being the Golden Boy, would give me the same talk."

 

Steve frowned, but glanced away from looking directly at Tony, making the slowly fading fake smile he wore seem a little more natural due to the sudden smugness. "Would you just listen. We only said those things because we were concerned - we're your team. None of us want to see you hurt or killed."

 

"And I'm sure that justifies everything you've ever said in your own world. But not in mine."

The apple was mostly eaten now, so Tony took the last bite and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he stood up finally letting the smile drop. "Don't worry though," he started as he walked towards the lift and binned the core, "if my vulnerability ever did get me killed there's enough money put towards the Avengers that you won't be out of a job. Well, if being an Avenger is your full time job. Sometimes I think you work for Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D."

 

"Ton-"

 

The elevator doors shut before whatever Steve was going to say could be said. Tony leant back against the elevator wall with a deep breath and finally unclenched his hand. Willing his body to relax as he pressed the button for the floor bellow for his lab.

 

After the encounter, Tony was tempted to leave the tower for a while, for some fresh air. But this was his home. And if someone was in his not-so-private lab, then he'd just go to his very-private workshop and put it in lock down. He really hoped it didn't have to come to that, but if Fury was gifted wrapped with a bow, drastic evasion techniques would have to be applied.

 

The elevator doors opened, and Tony leant out with his arms against the door frame. He glanced around, making sure there were no surprise Fury presents, then walked out into the empty room and rubbed his wrist with a slight squeeze.

 

Loki may have wrapped his arms up (well, it had to be Loki unless he could sleep walk now), but clearly he hadn't done anything but cover them at a guess by the pain flaring from movement. But that was good. It was something to help ground him.

 

The prototype quiver was still where it had being abandoned yesterday, so he had a choice of more human interaction with Clint. Or working on his suit and talking with J.A.R.V.I.S - quiver, Tony thought with a grimace. The encounter with magic had turned a few extra ideas in his mind, but none were plausible without the data.

  
"J.A.R.V.I.S, do me a favour and locate Clint. And tell him to get his arse to the training floor with some of his arrows. We're going to test this proto-type."

 

"Of course Sir, and may I add I'm pleased to see you up so early after last night."

  
Tony raised an eyebrow as he picked the quiver up and inspected it. "Sometimes, I think you've developed emotions. Did you worry about me?"

 

"My programming was always left where I could self-develop my awareness. Emotions are not yet part of that awareness yet though sir, I merely form words I feel would be most appropriate."

 

That, sounded like J.A.R.V.I.S was trying to be funny. Doesn't have emotions, but can feel. Defiantly J.A.R.V.I.S trying to be funny. Tony made a hmm noise in reply, heading back to the elevator.

 

The training floor was two floors bellow Bruce's own private lab (found bellow Tony's). Bruce was at all times as close to the ground as possible under his direction, and for safety between the labs and the training floor where a lot of the guns were stored there was a floor that was, in theory, Hulk-proof.

 

Tony had no idea where Clint would be at this time, usually he saw him in the afternoon; but he had looked a little beaten up himself. So, Tony mentally bet he would turn up in his shorts fresh from bed. Once the doors opened to the training floor's corridor, he gave one glance to be sure it was empty, then walked down to the open spaced training room. Clint had once shot arrows on the wall, so it made sense to have him shoot arrows at the same wall.

 

The lights automatically turned on upon walking in, the old arrows still imbedded in the wall as the only greeting. Placing the quiver down against the wall, Tony absently rubbed his wrist once and clenched his hand while waiting for the archer to arrive. The doubt of having to interact with someone else rose, the fleeting thought to just leave the quiver for Clint and escape to his workshop until he squeezed harder. While he didn't try to talk to people after events like the night before, he was a big boy. Clint was cool, so there was no need to get so worried.

 

When Clint walked into the room, Tony had finally released his wrist and calmed himself down externally. With a small smile, he turned to look at Clint and took in the appearance. Boxer shorts, purple baggy shirt, dishevelled hair, bandage wrapped up his left hand and the start of several strips appearing on his shoulder, carrying a handful of arrows and two bows as requested.

  
"I see Bruce got you too after I left yesterday."

 

"He even got Thor. I don't think he was too happy with any of us, but it was five Loki's. I'd like to see the Hulk manage that many."

 

Clint's already stuck up hair was made worse as he ran his hand through it with a yawn after moving the bows to free a hand. "What did you want me for anyway? J.A.R.V.I.S said to bring my bow and a few arrows."

 

Picking up the prototype, Tony almost waved it around. "Since we were so rudely interrupted yesterday, thought you might enjoy a few test shots to see if you can draw arrows easily. No point making one, then finding out while pretty it doesn't do its job very well."

 

Clint glanced down at his clothing, then gave a shrug. Placing one of the bows down, he reached across and took the prototype. As he placed the arrows within the quiver, he glanced up at Tony from the floor. "You do know this still won't be accurate. I can't exactly attach this to my shirt."

 

"And whose fault is that for not being awake and thinking things through. If I say bow and arrows, surely some part of your brain must think 'quiver'."

 

Not replying Clint just raised his bow and moving quickly, drawing one of the arrows back from the quiver on the floor. Releasing it, the arrow hit the wall just below the other bundle already there.

 

Tony watched as Clint then continued to draw the arrows in different ways, kneeling, and sliding along the floor, and once asking if Tony could hold the quiver too his back to at least see if he could draw from his back. It was fascinating watching him practise and hit the same target each time despite needing to change position constantly to draw a new arrow.

 

After firing the second to last arrow, Clint finally relaxed his body from the firing position and turned to look at Tony. "I think the design will work great. At least, it's better than the temp I was using yesterday. Whatever you did, worked a charm."

 

Tony couldn't help but smile slightly from where he was lent. "That's only the prototype remember. The final thing will be lighter, smoother to use."

 

Clint looked down at his bow for a second, before he smiled. "Still, Stark strikes again."

Tony shook his head slightly, standing straight and tugging the sleeves down. "Well then, I can get on with constructing the final product then."

 

He was about to walk away, but when Clint's bow tapped his shoulder, he turned around to see the younger man stood extending the second bow and final arrow. Tony raised his eyebrow at the offer, but Clint just held them towards Tony further. "I'm free all afternoon if you haven't heard, Cap discharged me of Avenger business for a few days while I recover. Strictly speaking, I shouldn't even be shooting down here right now due to my shoulder," he admitted sheepishly, glancing away and rolling his shoulder.

 

"So the quiver can wait a few hours I'm sure. All the others get to watch you struggle with their fighting style. My turn, surely?"

 

It was true that the other Avengers had, at different times, taken Tony down to the training room to train with them. After the first time it happened, he'd banned anyone not involved from being in the room if he was going to be forced through it. Clint was, unless it counted him helping Natasha or laughing from the corner, the only one to not have pulled Tony aside for anything. "Change of heart? Or do you finally trust me with your bow?"

 

"Let's just say, you look like you could do with letting off some steam. And I could do with some entertainment."

 

Clint then placed the bow and arrow tactically on the floor, knowing Tony wouldn't take it directly from him. So almost reluctantly, Tony picked the bow up and glanced at the classic design. Pulling the wire gently to twang it, watching it vibrate till it came to a stop. He then reached down and picked the arrow up also and glanced back at Clint who, from somewhere, had produced an arm guard.

 

Even if he felt useless and conflicted, a less explosive way of letting off steam would properly be better for everyone in the long run. Once the arm guard Clint started to wrap around his forearm was in place, Tony only flinching away once, Clint moved back with a gleam in his eyes. At least someone was enjoying themselves.

 

Clint then started to rattle on about the posture of firing arrows, how to not fire and have the wire hit his arm. Tony mostly tuned out for it, allowing Clint to put his body in the right position. Making a stick fire across the room shouldn't be too difficult.

 

Apparently, it was. Once Clint stopped talking and moved back, Tony tensed his arm and drew the arrow back against the wire. Taking a deep breath, he let go of the wire and instantly started swearing as it struck his forearm despite the guard. Then grimaced as the arrow was nowhere near the wall target. Clint beside him was laughing at the poor attempt.

 

By the end of the day, Tony was feeling exhausted. Not in a 'I must sleep soon' way, but emotional and 'ready to stay locked away from people' way. Having spent a further hour with Clint trying to shoot one arrow anywhere into the wall, he'd soon holed himself in the private workshop to start manufacturing the quiver. The notes and drawings for the new suit laid abandoned all day, although one small note was added before he left of _'need to magic proof'_.

 

It was now dark again, and Tony was sat on the edge of his bed. Massaging his forehead with his fingers, the velvet notebook beside him. With no more distractions, and the only urge to not pretend to be normal, he could focus on the book left by Loki.

 

Even when hanging out with Clint and alone in the workshop, it'd being on his mind. It was obviously magical - the cover had a tingle when touched that was foreign, much like technology had a hum - but that didn't explain what Loki meant in his note about 'using the notebook'. It was still just paper after all.

 

Glancing at it, Tony finally let his hand drop from his forehead as he slowly reach for it. Unlike technology with its hums, a book couldn't be taken apart to understand how it worked. So, he opened the book and flipped through a few pages, inspecting the pages carefully and, yup, they were just normal sheets of paper.

"What are you meant to even do?"

 

He only asked it to fill the silence, but the book suddenly snapped straight in his hands and flipped to the first pages. On the inside cover, what should have being plain black paper, someone had written down the page in small curled writing with silver ink.

 

_'Stark,_

_If you are reading this, then your curiosity led you to opening the notebook. Whether you found this writing yourself or the enchantment on the pages guided you to it is another matter._

_As my note said, you have sparked an interest after our 'talk', and I have many questions I wish to ask. First, I should explain the nature of this book. It has being enchanted by myself, to allow communication between us. Your book is connected to a similar one in my possession, which if you do not realise means what you write in book one, appears in book two. And the same in reverse, I write in book two, it shall appear in your own copy._

_For precautions, the enchantment also makes all words written by either of us disappear by those we do not wish to read them. I'm sure if you do decide to compile with my curiosity, you would not what anyone else to read what you have written._

_That is, a basic summary of what this notebook does. Whether you choose to write in it, is your choice. But I will not write first, nor will I answer any questions you may decide to write first. You can write anything you want, or if you so wished, you could even request a personal social meeting if your trust can expand that far._

_This shall be all I leave thus in the notebook, but I do hope you use it and engage with my spark of interest. It would be beneficial to us both, I'm sure._

_Loki'_

 

Right. Tony ran a finger over the ink, then looked at the opposite plain white page. He didn't trust what Loki had written, it was still Loki, super villain on Earth, enemy of the Avengers ect. But, he really was curious.

 

With a faint smile, he picked up the pen he'd placed on the bed earlier, and then tapped it against his bottom lip. He had questions; which Loki wouldn't answer if he wrote them down. Loki wanted answers; that Tony wouldn't write till he understood more about this... arrangement? Development? Whatever it is.  

So something that wasn't a question, wasn't an answer, but was likely to get Loki's attention.

 

It was childish, but he put the pen to the bottom half of the page, and then started to draw. First the basic outline of someone with both their arms raised, then the helmet, hair, cape - pause for a second to decide on the facial expression - frowny eyes and a straight line for the mouth, then finally the details of the leather outfit Tony was accustomed to seeing him wearing. A small Loki. Inspecting the caricature , he finished it off with a speech bubbled with the words 'I am a God you puny Mortals'.

 

No piece of art, but it'd do to try and get a response. Putting the book down, Tony then stood up from the bed and stretched with a wince. Who knew how long it'd take to possibly get a response, so he decided to take a bath (he wanted a shower, but as he stripped the shirt off, he saw the bandages that still were wrapped around his arms and though better of it, he'd never be able to get them so neatly again, nor did he want to see what was beneath them currently) to pass some of the time. It helped him relax at first and allow the irritated chest to be washed and freed from bandages, but his mind started to race as he sat in the water, events and thoughts from the past two weeks company that in the end cut the bath short as he grew more anxious.

 

Once dry, he walked from the bathroom in only his pyjama trousers, rubbing the bruised and healing flesh on his chest. He glanced briefly at the city beyond his window, then sat down on his bed again. As he started to rewrap the sore skin again, he glanced down at the book in curiosity.

 

The book was still open as he left it, only instead of the two pages having the silver writing and his black scribble, a second drawing was alongside the small Loki in green ink. A small Tony, more crudely drawn that made small Loki look like a piece of art now, stood in the Iron Man suit without the helmet winking at him. A small speech bubble came off him saying 'I'm Tony Stark, and I'm a million times better than you.'

And above the smaller Loki, the same curved text had appeared saying 'a very crude representation, Stark.'

 

Suddenly,  a little of the anxiety faded away as Tony tied off the bandage. Loki had, in a equally bizarre way, replied. So the notebook was magical as well as connected to a twin in Loki's possession. Whatever reason Loki had taken an interest him in, perhaps against Tony's better judgment, it couldn't be totally bad.

 

Tony shuffled down the bed, taking the book with him. He settled beneath the quilt, book beside him, and after calling J.A.R.V.I.S to reducing the lighting, wrote 'your own drawing wasn't much better'.

Over the next hour, every inch of the page was filled with black and green writing as Tony wrote to Loki about the two drawings, the tight wound up feeling he'd experienced all day with the anxiety fading away slowly, until he finally fell asleep waiting for a reply. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you couldn't tell, Clint is my next favourite Avenger after Tony.  
> Hope both Cap and Clint were in character though none the less. Specially Steve...
> 
> (Still no Beta for this fic (apart from a few lines from Steve, my friend who likes him, read them and helped change them slightly)... I think I should find a tumblr account that has beta readers listed)


	8. Chapter 8

"Sir, Mr Nick Fury is waiting for you in the communal lounge. He seems quite angry with you, going by the exact way he asked me to wake you."

Tony tightened his eyes as he was pulled from sleep by the AI's voice, and then groaned as he opened one eye to the room. The book was pressed against his face, sunlight was sneaking through the metal blinds, and somewhere in the bed a pen was stabbing into his back. One numb hand found its way to his head as he ran it through his hair, before he pushed from himself from the mattress and wiped the  
drool away, slowly blinking.

He stared at the carpet as he continued to run his hand through his hair, slowly bring it down across his face and the growing stubble. The fact Fury was visiting him, meant some formal business Tony thought as he flexed his other hand to try and rid the numb feeling. "J.A.R.V.I.S., did he state why he's waiting for me? Or why he's angry? A little help to let me know what I'm facing out there."

The AI stayed silent, which forced him to stand. "Whose side are you even on" was all he mumbled to the silence as he stumbled around the room to find something to wear. 

He moved quickly around the room to change from the pyjamas to something more suiting, pausing only to try and sort his hair out after it's hand brushing. The bandage around his forehead had resulted in his hair sticking up and generally taken a life of its own. Slightly annoyed by his reflection, he carefully unwrapped the material from his forehead and tried his best to use the hair to hide the cut and bruised skin. The lank hair only just covered the bruise up although the cut extended further down.   
Better than a bandage. 

Fury was glaring when he walked out to his open living area.   
"Nice of you to finally join me."  
"Nick-y, it took me ten minutes to make myself look presentable, unless you'd rather me be in my pyjamas for this talk."

The other man's head tilted, then sighed. "I'm rather reluctant we're going to be having this conversation, but it's got to happen."

He turned away from Tony, and sat at the breakfast bar at the small kitchen, indicating that Tony should join him. So with some reluctance himself, Tony walked over and sat down one seat apart."So, what is this 'conversation'?"

"It's about your recent performance as an Avenger. Captain America yesterday arranged a meeting with me."  
Tony felt the panic raise and, yeah, this was a conversation Tony did not want to be in instantly. It always returned to Steve and Fury. Smiling at Fury to cover his panic, he raised one eyebrow and spoke, "what has our walking flag being talking to you about now? Am I forgetting to pick up my toys again?"

The trade mark glare returned so Tony allowed the small smile he had manage to hold drop along with his gaze, and instead started to absently top the table surface. "The Captain talked to me about how you've being acting since the last de-brief. For anyone who's not Tony Stark, all you've done is hideaway and likely suffering a break down."

Mid tapping out some song he couldn't put a name too, Tony stopped and stared. "It's not like that. I've just chosen not to talk to as many people. Clint and Bruce have properly seen enough of me to go against whatever you're about to follow up with."

"Even if they could, it's was decided for the best that for the next few weeks you should drop down from the rooster as an Avenger. The needed paperwork has being signed and comfirm--"

Tony stood from his seat as Fury pulled an envelope from the inside of his jacket. "Is this a sick joke you're trying to play? I'm fine! You can't take me off the Avengers without a good reason. We're not even part of S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Stark, I wouldn't be here if we didn't have one. Half of your team has being worried about you, if you're not actively interacting with them all, then the way you've acted around them has given them enough to worry about. This also stretches from the attack on New York a year ago. We've being monitoring all the Avenger's mental health since you became an official team. Attach to S.H.I.E.L.D., or not."

Well that was just unfair. Anyone after the attack on New York by the crazed-alien-God would leave anyone in a bad place. Tony would admit easily he wasn't around to see how the others coped, but when the tower was completed and everyone arrived no-one talked to each other, and all looked shit for the first week. So using that past to build up some portfolio on his mental state was unfair. Much like the one that was used to assess him for the Avengers Initiative to start - a dying guy is highly unfair to judge. 

"I don't want to do this, Stark. No one does, but having a break from the Avengers could help with whatever happens behind closed doors."

Tony stood there while Fury placed the envelope down on the table and then stood up. "You'll find an official letter inside, you should read it over."

As if it'd make a difference, Fury placed one hand on his shoulder, before it disappeared quickly as the man walked away. Tony kept his eyes on the letter as Fury walked away, listening to his footsteps only. He was about to reach for the envelope, when the footsteps stopped. "You are also to come for a mental assessment with S.H.I.E.L.D.. To help get you back in the action sooner than later. And that was not a request, that's an order."

Turning around, Tony frowned at the back of Fury, watching as he walked inside the elevator, then disappeared behind the metal doors. As the numbers beside the doors began to descend, he looked back at the envelope.   
"What is it with S.H.I.E.L.D., and assessing me without any consent?"

He pushed the envelope away, deciding to ignore it for the time being and glare into empty space. For a while, he stood not focusing on anything specific before he took a deep breath through his nose. If this was all official, he may as well make the most of the first day. Before he started causing hell for Fury to get him back on the team. 

Walking away from the bar, he decided to head back to his bathroom. During the bath the previous evening, he hadn't fully looked at his chest - just as he hadn't looked at his forehead properly when removing the bandage beyond glaring. So the first thing to do with this sudden freedom was to properly inspect what was underneath every inch of bandage. 

Tony first stripped down to his boxers once stood in the bathroom, leaning against the counter where the long mirror extended across. Lifting his hair from his forehead, he grimaced at the large yellow bruise on his right temple, the gash extending beyond the bruise with its black stitching holding it closed. Other than the dried blood from where the gauze had being under the bandage wrap, there was nothing else Tony could mention. It looked awful, but was clearly healing despite appearances. 

Next, he unwrapped the chest bandages again and stared. This was the oldest of the set, and already the newest wounds were starting to heal and fade; fading into the old scars from the reactors placement, like a jigsaw puzzle of scars. Within another week, he could expect them to be faded enough that he wouldn't be able to tell which were the newest ended, and then oldest began.   
Carefully running a finger over one of the new scars, he found his finger trailing a faded one until he sighed at the marked skin. While he was use to the reactors glow, the faint metallic taste at the back of his mouth, and the heaviness that came from carrying the reactor in replacement of bone, the scars themselves was probably a part of Tony he'd always struggle with. 

Tony was apprehensive as he went to unwrap the bandages from his forearm. The reactor scars he struggled with, and any injuries from fights he could face, but his self inflicted always were different. More difficult to face. Of course, the reactor use to come under that, but even if he struggled to deal with the scars, being forced to live in a cave made you quickly change your thoughts on something saving your life. No matter the problems it had caused over the years. 

Gently, he began to pull the top of the bandage from underneath the wrappings and slowly began to unwrap. At first he was calm, but the more he unwrapped, the more his hand started to shake. The bandage was nearly unwrapped to his wrists and the first edge of cuts began to show, when from somewhere outside the bedroom a voice called out, causing Tony to flinch and drop the strand of weave. "Tony?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaah, this took ages to both write and get to some state I was happy with. Or rather the second part of this chapter. 
> 
> I half gave up on it for a while but I've managed to get it working finally so here's to continuing this again.


	9. Chapter 9

Breathing heavily with panic, Tony glanced quickly around before stepping away from the counter. "P-Pepper?"

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit. Tony pulled at the loose strand, unwrapping the remains from his wrist, and quickly ignoring whatever was beneath it, picked the shirt he'd being wearing before. He pulled it on, wincing as the fabric pulled over the exposed skin, and then lent out the doorway to look into his bedroom. "I wasn't expecting you. Where are you?"

"In the lounge, I texted you earlier on. I would have thought you'd at least check your phone once in a while."

Reaching down, Tony pulled the jeans over one leg while walking out the bathroom. "Well, I've being busy. A certain bald pirate turned up uninvited."  
Nearly tripping over Tony stopped near his bed to catch his balance and push his other leg into the jeans, zipping them up as quick as he could. He glanced at the notebook still on the bed as it was this morning, but Loki had said it couldn't be read by others. 

Clenching his hand, he made the choice to hide it as he leant on the bed and pushed it under the pillows. He bit his lip as he pushed it under and felt the material irritate the cut skin, but refused to make any noise. 

"I was hoping to beat him here, but anyone of SHIELD has the habit of getting places when you least expect them."

Book safely hidden like some dirty secret, Tony knelt on the bed, rubbing his wrist lightly and muttered to himself, "you can say that again."  
Crawling off the bed, Tony then looked down and saw a small drop of blood on the white covers. Lifting his right hand, he saw a small drip of blood that was staining the shirt cuff. Shit. 

Tony began to unbutton the cuff, pulling it back as he walked back to the bathroom. He should have just left those bandages alone, he thought clenching his right hand. Grabbing the bandage, he haphazardly began to rewrapped his wrist while trying to ignore what was there and the light bleeding all the movement had caused. 

"Tony? What are you doing in there?"  
"I'll be one minute, Pep."

It wasn't the best, but as Tony pulled the cuff down, it stopped the bleeding being visible but not stopping the staining on the cuff edges. He stared at it transfixed until another call of his name from Pepper made him blink, glancing away. "Yeah, sorry. Be out in a sec."

A faint huff came, but as Tony began to flatten his fringe again over the bruising, he stared at his reflection and took one last deep breath willing the panic to disappear. He walked out from the bathroom and across the bedroom to the lounge, where he was greeted by Pepper stood arms folded near the wall.   
"Sorry about the wait Pep, was trying to wash after Fury's visited. Bandages get a bit grungy after a few days."

Blue eyes glanced across at him, and then down to his still exposed chest. Should have buttoned that up on the way out. She winced at the jigsaw of scars and moved closer to trail a finger along one of the still red lines. "I'd heard about what happened the other week, but I didn't realise they'd gotten this close to the reactor."

Tony smiled weakly at her, catching her hand and lifting it away from his chest, "it's fine, I'm fine. We're all fine."

She looked up at Tony, and stepped back. "Fury doesn't think your fine though."

Tony looked away as he began to button up his shirt. There would only be one reason she'd arrive on the same day as Fury. She more than likely wished to have arrived before Fury, break the news easier. 

Frowning Tony walked off to the bar, missing Pepper's reach out at the small blood on his cuff. "Drink?"  
"It's too early to be drinking Tony. What's that on your shirt's cu--"

"Sure you don't want a drink? Missing out."  
Tony poured himself a drink, back turned to her. Pepper and his relationship didn't change after New York. He holed himself up, and she'd be waiting when he emerged. But, romantically they changed and drifted apart during that time. Back to close friends and business partners.  
Which worked better for Tony. No secrets, no lying. 

Shaking his glass, Tony turned back to look at Pepper. She still had that look of concern on her face, but instead of saying anything she just walked over and began to button his shirt. Tony raised an eyebrow and laughed softly, "last time I checked, you wasn't my mother Pepper."

"No, but I still care despite everything. And while you may feel comfortable flashing off your scars, I'm not," she looked up at him as she fastened the final button. "You know I've never being great with it."  
Tony smiled softly and took a drink before muttering, "still mothering." 

She gently pushed him away, but smiled back. "I'm sure you'll be pleased to hear I didn't come here to mother you. I simply have some paperwork to sort with you, both business and Fury."  
Of course.

Walking to the breakfast bar, Tony sat down and pointed at the seat opposite him. "If it'll make you happy, you can steal my first hour of unwanted freedom." 

Ever so resourceful, Pepper walked over and produced a folder she placed in front of him. "There are a few plans in there you need to okay before we mass produce them, as well as some finalising paperwork for the Avengers. Just need you to sign on the dotted line." 

Opening the file, Tony glanced over the pieces of paper and frowned to himself. "What paperwork for the Avengers? I thought we finished dealing with that months ago."

"We did, but you wanted to build the new planes for Avengers use. And while on the rooster, Natash- I mean Black Widow and Hawkeye are still signed under S.H.I.E.L.D., as are Captain America. This is some final paperwork to prove they're committed to being part of the Avengers."  
Tony glanced across at her, "would be better if they weren't attached to S.H.I.E.L.D. period."

Looking back down, he read a few lines of each paper and began to sign, wincing at times throughout. He could feel that Pepper was watching, but he tried to ignore it. She was curious about the true extent of his injuries; one of their agreements was he'd never elaborate too much into his injuries unless she asked, but the blood on his cuff properly made her more curious than normal. He mentally cursed his own curiosity. 

Finally reaching the final paper, he paused and then swore under his breath as the pen dropped from his hand. He grasped his wrist and began to massage it, ignoring Peppers fussing beside him while he looked properly at the paper. "Pepper... What is this document?" 

The page was headed with 'Agreement To Temporary Leave', followed by what Tony would call legal bullshit. A brief summary of the whole document was his formal word to agree not being a member of the Avengers until S.H.I.E.LD. confirmed him safe to operate the Iron Man suit.   
"Tony let me look at your wrist, has some stitches come undone? There's blood on your cuff-" 

She took his right hand in hers and was about to pull back the sleeve when Tony stood and pulled his hand away from her. "No Pepper, why are you carrying that document?"  
Tony kept his eyes locked on the paper, thinking of his earlier conversation with Fury. He said it was all signed, a done deal. So why would Pepper have something that seemed to finalise the whole deal. 

Beside him, Pepper seemed to fidget a little before she dropped her hands to her lap and looked down. If Pepper had this paperwork to be signed, then it wasn't just Fury and SHIELD that had pulled him from the Avengers line up. Pepper had some involvement with the paperwork.  
That explained why she had tried to get here before Fury. 

Standing, Tony walked away from her and began to rub his wrist above the haphazard bandages he'd retied. Not caring if he caused pain that made him wince. Better than the conflicting feelings he had from this new development. 

"Fury said everything had being signed for, like I'd agreed to this leave. But that was your job. This is bullshit."

"Look, Tony. Everyone can see you're struggling with something. We want to help, and we can't if you keep putting yourself into situations. We care for you, and. And if keep you from the Avengers for a while so we can understand what, then its better even if you hate us for it right now."  
Pepper was standing now as well, arms crossed and she had a small glare that didn't really suit her. But Tony knew she wasn't going to back down. She was trying to help. And he supposed that's why it hurt him more that she thought taking him away from what would distract him would in the end help him. 

Turning away from her, Tony looked out at the city landscape. Signing that form would mean he agreed to be removed from the rooster. Which he didn't want to do he thought while he tightened his grip around his wrist, bleeding be damned.

Being part of the Avengers was one of the few things this past year that had kept him focused, and it felt like when his appearance cracked everyone who became worried thought taking him from the one thing he could keep his focus on would help. They didn't really know anything about him and his situation. But how would they, he didn't exactly tell them what was really wrong. 

Sighing, Tony closed his eyes for a moment and thought back to Loki and the whole mess he found himself in with the God. It was almost laughable how the one person who noticed, was one who was an enemy. What did that even make him, a frenemy?

"You have no idea what's going on Pep," Tony said as he slowly walked forward and released his wrist, "but fine. I'll sign the bullshit form to make everyone happy. I had some plans for Stark Industry, and unless you'd rather I also detach myself from my own company, I can work on them with this forced vacation." 

Being careful to avoid making eye contact, Tony walked back over and quickly signed the dotted line. He could feel Pepper beside him, but right now he wanted her to leave having now run out of patience for others. 

"Tony, I really didn't want to do this. I argued with Fury about this, but just taking a break might help. I--"

Tony looked at her then smiled sadly, "I know. You care and you want to help, you all do. Would much prefer if you all thought of me as a big boy who can deal with his own issues. Just, go do your job. Hand that paper over to Fury and I'll pretend this is just some holiday. That will be all, Ms Potts." 

Pepper quickly gathered the papers and placed them back in the folder, and before leaving leant over to kiss Tony on the cheek. She'd hovered after the kiss, looking at his face and looking like she wanted to say something else, but in the end she just walked out with a quiet bye.   
At first he had just stood in the same position, shaking slightly before he pulled the offending bloodied sleeve back over the tangle of bandage. Pulling the ends, he wrapped the remainder around his wrist before knotting off.

"J.A.R.V.I.S," he spoke with an uneven voice as he walked back to the bar, "make sure I have plenty of warning before anyone else turns up on my door step. Or better yet, tell them I'm on vacation."

Filling a fresh glass, he leant against the bar and stared out at nothing while the feeling betrayal filled all empty space in his gut. It wasn't her fault, just obeying those with more power, he kept repeating with each downed drink. But they became empty thoughts the more he drank trying to forget this morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to update this weekly/bi-weekly depending on how quick I can churn out the next two chapters. The next one is a big one that's almost finished, so I'd love to get the next one finished to at least stay on top of things.
> 
> Fyi; I love Pepper (more in the comics than the films). But she's one of many characters I struggle with writing so reason number one why it took so long to be able to update. And reason number two why I basically removed her from the story as early as possible to avoid trying to write her in character beyond the odd random chapter.


	10. Chapter 10

_"I hate everything."_  
 _"This is nothing new, I assure you Stark."_  
 _"No. But seriously, I do. Can only like techmology._  
 _Shit, sorry. TechNology."_  
 _"Stark, have you being drinking?"_  
 _"Maybe."_  
 _"Might I suggest a better use of your time?"_  
 _"Learm a new skill? Explore new parts of the world, develop amother new element?"_  
 _"Stop babbling and engage that primitive brain of yours. I did not give you this notebook to simply waste on your drunken idiocy._  
 _And stop drawing various images of yourself."_  
 _"Shut up."_  
 _"Might I suggest we meet up tomorrow as a better way to spend your time?"_

Standing at the agreed location, Tony rocked on his feet lightly. He'd had to re-read the two pages he'd filled with, well, absolute babbles. He'd clearly being writing for a long period before Loki decided to write back. Most of it had, by the time that neat curved writing began, descended into scribbles that he struggled to read out of drunk vision. For some reason, most of his n's had become m's - though drunk him only thought to correct it the once. How thoughtful. 

Whatever possessed him to start writing in the book after several hours of drinking, then proceed with filling several pages with rubbish, he wasn't sure now sober. And, really, how can your writing become as illegible. Typing he'd understand with keys to mix up, but he'd being writing as long as he could walk. At least whenever had written his name, it was a perfect copy of his signature. Years of practice signing forms for Pepper having a second use at least.

Pulling his phone out his pocket he began to fiddle with the screen for something to do. Drunk Tony had decided after only one line of persuasion to attend this meeting, drawing smiley faces and soon what looked like scribbles as a reply. Loki had soon rudely told him to sleep off the alcohol or annoy someone else with his drunk illegible idiocy. One scribble that looked like 'fuck you' if you squinted hard enough, and the pages remained empty.  
Sober Tony wasn't sure how he felt about this arrangement without his sober consent, but worry aside, he tried to keep an open mind towards this agreement. 

Around him, people kept walking by him, thankfully not recognising the billionaire under the sunglasses and the most casual, inconspicuous clothes he owned. While it wasn't a busy location, he though as he glanced from the phone screen over his glasses rim, it was still the sort of place it'd only take one person to look close enough to know there stood Tony Stark waiting for someone and find himself in a unwanted situation. 

Tony glanced back down at the phone, beginning to read an email he'd received from Pepper sometime this morning. Mostly apologising but also asking if he was hung over, or rather stern words if he was still drinking after their meeting yesterday. True Pepper, nobody knew him as well as she did despite their rocky relationship at this moment in time. If he had being drunk, he was sure the reply would have being more eligible than his writing to Loki. 

"You do know people are pointing at you, despite your 'disguise'."

Blinking, Tony looked up and saw a young woman with shoulder length black hair, pulled back in a loose pony tail, staring down at him with one eyebrow raised and a slight smirk. So casually dressed, yet carried elegance. In any other situation, Tony would have automatically thought about a flirtatious reply. Instead, Tony was about to tell her kindly to keep out of his business, when he paid closer attention to her. The higher cheekbones, the pale blue eyes that seemed slightly unnatural, plus on the grand scale of things the height that after a super brief glance down confirmed she wore no heels, all of which led Tony to almost choke, "Loki?"

Loki, or who Tony presumed was Loki, raised one hand out as she smiled wider. "So you are not still drunk."

Tony glanced at the outstretched hand, before gently taking it, shaking it and smiling. "Well, your eyes gave you away. That, and no one can look so casually composed while radiating the 'I'm better than you' feeling."

"Yes, well I thought me turning up as myself would have only raised more questions to those who saw us meeting. I see you had a similar thought, if all you managed to do was make yourself look more suspicious," Loki replied while releasing Tony's hand. "But some people are staring as if trying to figure out if you are indeed Tony Stark or a good look-a-like. Can I recommend we move on to formally begin our meeting?" 

Nodding slowly, Tony ignored how weird it felt to be talking to the God of Mischief as a woman. God, Goddess? What do you even call someone who had magic'd themselves into another gender. "Lead the way Doe."

Loki frowned slightly, but took hold of Tony's forearm, pulling him closer and began to lead the way. "'Doe'? What happened to Reindeer?"

Anyone who may have being watching their exchanged probably saw how Loki nearly marched him away, as Loki looping his arm through his and walking off together like a perfect couple. "Yeah, sorry to break it to you but you're hardly a reindeer at this moment in time. Or, you are. But Doe suits you much better. Female body, you see."

Tony paused for a minute as Loki pulled him around a corner while rolling their eyes. "Or I could call you Bambi. Maybe Bambi suits this better, it was hard to tell he was a guy deer till he grew up."

The grip around his arm tightened and, yeah, Tony knew to stop talking about it right now. He decided to concentrate on where Loki was leading him. The small feeling of worry had grown since being dragged off, and perhaps allowing one of your enemies, especially one that had turned up randomly in the middle of the night with what seemed like a perversion to knowing what was wrong under the surface, wasn't one of his best ideas. 

Loki dragged him in silence, and Tony soon gave up trying to keep up with where Loki was going. It was only after they turned another corner seemingly onto somewhere of no importance he dared to open his mouth. "Are you actually taking me anywhere, or are we going to go in circles all day?"

No surprise when Loki didn't reply, so Tony glanced around again when he suddenly felt himself being tugged sharply. "What the fuc--"

"Be silent," Loki said as his skin began to glow and the more familiar male Loki pressed against him down the darkened alley. Panic filled, Tony began to breathe heavier, eyes wide. As if he needed any more reason to doubt the true intention of Loki as he stared out at the God, glad as the other man hadn't thought to cover his mouth. 

After a minute, Loki slowly pushed away and pulled down on the top he was wearing as if being in that close contact to Tony had stained him. Tony stayed pressed against the wall, looking from Loki to the entrance to the alleyway. One final glance he finally let out a long breath, falling away from the wall as he removed his sunglasses and glared at Loki. "What was that about you crazed, idiotic drama queen."

Loki looked at him, that stupid passive look on his face, before a grin appeared as the man began to laugh. "You look like a pathetic child with that face, Stark. All that's missing is the pouting lip and crossed arms. It is most unfitting even if you have the height of one."

Almost as quickly as he had begun laughing, Loki returned to his usual expression even if his eyes contained his humour, "however we were being followed. I thought it best we disappeared quickly."

Tony continued to glare, resisting the urge to cross his arms. "Why not just magic us away?"

"It is not always subtle, even in a crowd, and trying to carry you in a spell would only make it more obvious what happened. Whoever was following would likely know of my magic should I use it," Loki finished, finally done brushing down his tunic. 

There was no reply to that logic, so Tony just leant against the wall again. This entire thing was defiantly a bad idea now. No way could one of Humanities most wanted bad guys, and one of Humanities most loved heroes go incognito to meet up without someone finding out even in accident.  
"So what now Reindeer, since I doubt whatever you had planned would work in an alleyway. Specially not for a prince such as yourself."

Loki raised his eyebrow, and then reached out to take hold of Tony's forearm again. Holding tighter than necessary, he gave a sharp smile and simply said "you might want to keep your mouth closed."

Instead of listening, Tony opened his mouth to reply and in that exact moment everything turned cold, constricted and breathing became difficult. It didn't last long, but when it had finished he felt his legs collapse beneath him, leaving him knelt on the floor taking deep breaths. Loki walked passed him casually and out of sight, leaving Tony to then lean forward and grip onto his jeans. "Fuck."

"Now really Stark, you should wash your mouth. Nearly everything you've said to me has had some profanity littered among your words."

There was a reply on the tip of Tony's tongue, but it was suddenly much harder to breath never mind trying to speak. Almost choking, he collapsed forward so his head hit the floor, hunched over in long breathless gasps. Beside him, he heard movement, and then a hand on his shoulder, gently pulling him up.  
"You need to breathe, slowly. Try to dispel the panic Stark."

Tony hadn't even realised he was panicking until Loki pointed it out, that simple fact suddenly made it a little easier to try and breathe again. Gasping, he opened his eyes and saw Loki to his side, a small look of worry on his face. 

Closing his eyes again quickly, he concentrated on just breathing and relaxing. It was slow, but eventually he was able to calmly breathe again, the ache in his chest alleviating and his mind no longer racing. Finally he reopened his eyes once the panic was gone and the shaking ceasing. It had being a long time since he last had any form of panic attacks. Originally the smallest amount of worry, panic or references to the attack on New York use to trigger them, but gradually he learnt to cope with them that only in extreme situations would the attacks arise. Tony could only guess the sudden sensation caused the random attack. 

"Okay, new rule. No magic-voodoo-stuff without a clear warning."

Loki still had his hand on his shoulder, the same minute worried expression on his face. "I did not know you suffered a panic driven illness."

That was strange, that almost sounded like an apology to Tony. Pushing away Loki's hand, he slowly stood and pulled off his coat allowing it to fall to the ground. Suddenly he was way too hot to be wearing more than necessary. "I don't. At least not in a long time, no big deal. But now you know, add it to your Bad Guy Diary or wherever you keep your plans of world domination."

Looking around, Tony realised quickly Loki had transported them away with magic. The place he now stood was a wide open space, some old factory long abandoned. There was very little light coming through the grimy windows almost covered in a black substance. A little further away there was a collection of boxes arranged in a mock seating area, a small jar sitting on one of the tallest boxes that glowed, lighting the area. Not the place he'd pin Loki to, but it was certainly secluded.  
Tony looked back to Loki who had now stood beside him, the worry gone and replaced with a raised eyebrow. "Hardly the kind of place I'd have thought you'd hang around."

Loki's other eyebrow raised, and he too then looked around the empty space. "It has it uses. But seen as you are well again, perhaps we can finally start with the reason we've being through all this trouble to simply arrive here."

He allowed Loki to lead them over to the crude seating space arranged, and sat upon the smaller box that he'd have no issue climbing on. Loki took the one opposite, crossing his legs and smiling across at him.  
"I want you to answer my questions, Stark. So do not try to talk your way around them, as I will push to get the answer."

Tony looked away, but finally nodded his head. "Just, one thing. Can you please stop calling me Stark? Way too formal for my liking, even if this is you."

"While this is informal, given we are technically enemies and not trying tear each other apart at this current moment in time, I do not wish to get to know you beyond Stark. Plus Tony is such a weak name, your full name however," Loki trailed off with sharp smile

Quickly looking back at Loki, Tony clenched one hand, before he relaxed and leant against the boxes behind him. Loki of course knew his full name, he'd used it once already. That night was still fresh in his mind, down to the smallest details like this smiling asshole using his full name to try and calm him down. "You know what," Tony started while trying to smile despite the memories, "keep calling me Stark. No one calls me my full name."

The God's smile softened slightly, and that was the only reply needed to know Loki had gotten his way. It was true no one used his full name, unless angry at him, but how could you have a conversation with someone who kept using his last name as if it was his first? Tony shuffled on the box he had sat on, lightly kicking the box as a distraction. 

"If you have finished sulking and acting like a child, we can begin. Do remember, I will try to get the answers despite your aversive nature," Loki finally spoke as he leant forward as if it to study Tony closer. 

Tony stopped kicking the box, and looked away again. Eyes focusing on the jar filled with light. "Just ask your questions, but don't turn this into some therapy session."

"Do not worry, Stark. I don't want to fix you, only understand you to state my curiosity. You may find it therapeutic however, since you did agree to this. And only a mad or desperate man would agree to meeting with me."

Tony laughed softly, still focused on the jar. He was defiantly a mix of mad and desperate. Not that he'd openly admit it to anyone.  
"Now Stark, let us begin. I've already explained what I saw due to my spell, but how much guilt must you be hiding to have caused such a reaction. I imagine it expands beyond recent years to be that much, but let's start at our beginning. Tell me about New York."

New York. It wasn't what Tony expect to be asked about. Well, he did. But not as the first thing of interest. It confused Tony for moment, until he sighed. "You came, things blew up, I saved the day, you killed someone. And then I saved the day again. Easy."

Loki shook his head, "that is not what I meant. I thought you'd find it easier to talk about something closer to the present then something further away in the past."

"You have strange logic," Tony murmured and finally looked away from the jar. "but before your appearance I was still shaken after what happened shortly before. An issue with my reactor. Not that anyone really knew. Nobody knew I was even dying until after I solved the issue."

Even though he was off topic already, Loki didn't comment. He had interlaced his hands, resting his elbows on his legs and then his head on the interlaced fingers, all attention focused on him. It was eerie, filling him with more doubt about being here. Especially when he was willingly letting the smart arse demi-God know more about him than he let others know who were closer and less inclined to blow things up. But on the other side, having someone who was clearly listened made Tony ignore it, resting his hands on his knees and looked at the floor. Taking a big breath, Tony continued speaking. 

Tony started from how he became involved, being handed the folder of information about all the Avengers and Loki's arrival. How his relationship with Steve from the first moment they met was not team work ready, the disappointment he'd felt standing next to the person his dad revered. The panic and dread as he tried to fix the Helicarrier after its attack, guilt over Coulson's death and how scared he felt to be called a solider when this wasn't his battle. Not really. 

The self doubt he had up until the moment he landed on his own tower to confront Loki, 'threatening' him to try and gain some control over everything. Then he was thrown out the window, and as soon as the portal opened he was filled with pure panic and fear. That was all he could remember about the battle. It was buried deeply now that only how he felt could be recalled clearly, and because of this trying to talk about the battle caused him to stumble over words and struggle explaining the event, till he just repeated the word fear over and over again.

He finished with the bomb, taking it through the portal to save the city from a worse fate than the Chitauri. But also how he did it as a desperate escape from the battle, to escape the fear and pain. Ending up in space, where suddenly he felt nothing, seeing everything. The dead of space and watching as the army was destroyed by the bomb. Then nothing has he ran out of oxygen. Just acceptance that he'd either die in space, or wake up back on Earth if he made it through the portal. And being unsure which he'd rather happen. 

When Tony finished talking, silence fell between them. It felt heavy, and Tony found it difficult to breathe - a recurring theme of this meeting he thought, keeping his eyes firmly on the ground and unfocused.

"You are quite selfish."  
"When you're as fucked up as I am, I think that's the only defence you can adopted."

Loki was standing in front of him now, somehow getting across the space without making a noise, resting his hands on top of Tony's clenched ones. It was bizarre, this close contact. He thought he should flinch, pull his hands away, try to push Loki away. Instead, it offered some simple comfort that instead his hands relaxed underneath Loki's and Tony slowly fell forwards. Resting his head against Loki's chest.  
Right now he just needed someone. 

He had not talked about New York once since it happened. Never came to terms with what had happened, just drunk himself into oblivion most days, or hid in workshop, inside his suits to avoid the anxiety attacks he began to suffer. And when neither of those tactics worked, he would lock himself in darkness and relieve the feelings through first split knuckles and then the blade. 

"It's the worst form of defence. If you want me to speak honestly, the feelings in the way you described them, I'm more astonished you are not in reality my ally. From what I understand, it's a small line of difference between the good guys and the bad guys."

"Great, a lesson from someone whose the definition of evil."  
Fingers caught his chin, gripping tightly as they forced Tony to look up at angry eyes. They were fascinating this close, the pale blue so unnatural that Tony found it hard to find another word to describe them, but the green haze that came from Loki's magic and anger was another level of unnatural. 

"I do not presume to know about you, so do not do the same with me. We all only see half of a story," the words were spoken with anger, almost spat out. The fingers then pushed away Tony's face, and the remaining hand removed from Tony's. 

Tony looked away and grasping his left wrist. Rubbing over the material, pressing down hard to feel the pain from the raw skin underneath bandages. Yeah, don't anger the Norse God. 

Loki stepped back, glaring off to the other side. They both stayed not looking at the other until Tony pressed harder on his wrist, wincing and finally started to speak. "I didn't presume, I-"

"Silence, I do not care. It cannot be helped if you've only heard of me from Thor. Perhaps if this arrangement continues, you'll learn your own truths. But for now, let me look at your bandages. I'm guessing you have not removed them once so far, and so it would be wise I check them before you anger me further."

Holding his hand out, Loki waited until Tony released his wrist and then held both arms out. Loki took hold of them roughly causing Tony to wince. The God didn't seem to care, although as he pushed the tight shirts sleeves back he did so more gently. His eyebrows raised when he saw the perfectly bandaged arm, and then the roughly done bandage Tony had done after Pepper left stained in blood. 

Tony tried to pull his arms away, but Loki gripped tighter. "Yeah, I tried to look at them yesterday. I was interrupted and so never got round to doing an as perfect job you did," he spoke with false indifference. 

"They have being bleeding again."  
"Happens."

Loki hmm'd, and then unwrapped the rough wrap Tony had done. Tony instantly looked away, while Loki trailed a finger along the cut skin. "How can you purposefully harm yourself, and yet not be able to deal with the consequences? You are a mystery Stark."

The words were spoken softly, and while speaking Loki used magic to remove the left bandage and conjure new ones. Loki rubbed his thumbs along both wrists, first causing pain at the touch. Then both wrists turned cold suddenly, causing Tony to shudder and try to pull his arms away again. 

Loki's strong grasp prevented him and Tony didn't even need to glance over to know he was getting a look telling him to sit still. So he did so, only wincing as the coldness continued, sharp in feeling but comforting. Tony was no stranger to Loki's magic. He may not understand it, but he knew well what it felt like. Always filled with a cold underlying feeling. But there was cold, and then there was cold. 

The cold he felt in battle was sharp, hurtful and all to similar to that cold you felt when you stood outside too long during winter and the wind around you bit into the frozen areas. Biting, freezing, sudden.  
But this magic, it felt cold. But it was more along the lines of the cold you felt from a breeze during a hot day. Sharp at first, but then soothing, relaxing. It came, removed the over baring uncomfortable heat and then gradually faded away leaving you warm. 

Slowly, the cold began to fade away to be replaced with a familiar numbness on wrists, Loki's thumbs running over them gently. Tony sighing quietly as the dull ache from the past few days was replaced with the numbness and distant feeling of Loki's stroking thumbs. 

"They will heal in the next few days, or rather you will be able to remove the bandages as the skin will no longer need protecting."

Removing his hands, Tony finally turned his head to look at Loki. Not daring to let his eyes drop and instead focusing on Loki's face. The God picked up one of the bandages out of sight and began to wrap it around his wrist, slowly beginning to raise the material up his forearm. It was a little fascinating to watch Loki concentrate on neatly covering his arms, and Tony continued to just watch Loki's face until both his arms were covered up to the forearms.

He then finally turned his attention to his arms, clenching his hands to flex the muscle against the bandages. Just as before his poking, they were neatly covered. Neither too tight or too loose, and as he began to pull his sleeves down, Tony wasn't sure if Bruce could have managed a better job himself.  
However, Tony wouldn't thank Loki for this. Not his style. 

"What kind of magic did you use on me?"

Loki blinked at him, before pulling back and taking a power stance in front of him, arms clasped behind his back and legs spread like he owned the place. He properly did, but it wasn't really needed.  
"Minor healing. I presumed you would rather let them heal in time. But you mortals take too long to heal naturally. The spell was merely to help them heal faster and prevent them opening again. As well as cleaning the wounds."

Tony looked at his arms again, turning them over as if he could see through the bandages and clothing what exactly the magic had done. Or see if he could the magic working it's, well, magic. Loki in front of him continued to stand in his stance, slowly tilting his head up so he was looking down at Tony. 

"Do not worry, I used the same spell on that night. Maybe not the healing part, but it's perfectly safe otherwise we wouldn't be here," Loki smiled wide, clearly amused. 

"Whatever Shark face. Not every day I get to see your magic up close and not so invasive."

The small change in Loki's stance was apparently all it took to make them slip back into their better-than-you attitude towards one another, even if he didn't have the energy to respond with his usual brand of Stark-snark.  
"Shark face is hardly one of your better remarks, although possibly making more sense than 'rock of ages'." 

Tony let out a small laugh and raised an eyebrow, "well if you're going to walk around in leather and long black hair. I don't know your look means on Asgard, but here it doesn't stand for crazed asshole taking over the planet."

Loki stared passively back at him, though a lazy smirk was still on his face betraying him of his amusement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, this was half done and then I spent too long deciding against having Tony actually speaking about New York, or going how I did... I only decided to leave it how I wrote it because I felt it'd take too long and not sound right if I did have him speak it.  
> As a result, I'm not exactly happy with this chapter. Also keeping Loki in enough character was a pain, so hopefully he doesn't seem to ooc overall, and if he is it seems realistic in the situation.


End file.
